


An Iron Mask

by ditherdo



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Badass Link, I havent written in 10 years and it shows, M/M, Male Sheik (Legend of Zelda), No idea if this will work, Sheik (Legend of Zelda) is a Separate Character, Yiga Sheik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 52,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditherdo/pseuds/ditherdo
Summary: There's a secret weapon hidden in the Gerudo desert and the newly appointed Master Khoga knows how to find it. There's a secret weapon hidden in the Gerudo desert and the newly appointed Master Khoga plans to use it.Sheik has only ever known darkness. Meeting the Champion of Hyrule changes things. Severing bindings with one Master doesn't necessarily mean forging bonds with another.
Relationships: Link & Sheik (Legend of Zelda), Link/Sheik (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 67
Kudos: 179





	1. Behind an Obsidian door

War could sometimes be likened to a childish game of tug the rope. Two sides of equal power, back and forth and back again, a never ending battle with losses and gains on both sides. It was after a particular messy loss that Khoga found himself appointed Master of the Yiga clan. It had been something that he had dreamt of, something he had been schooled to accept as fate since before he was fully conscious and aware of the wold around him. Before he could read, he was being read to the history of his heritage. Khota was a fierce and mighty leader, as was his father before him. He revelled in war and bloodshed. For thirty years he stirred his clansmen into subterfuge and all-out war on their Sheikah and Hylian enemies, training his tribe in the art of illusion and murder. It was on his death bed, surrounded by the icy Hebra mountains in their current hideout, that Khota passed his mantle onto his only son. He was as pale as the snow that surrounded them, illuminated an earie red glow from the fireplace. Khoga's mother wept silently at his bedside, holding on his sweating palm and fingering her husband's broken mask on her lap. There was a putrid smell of death emanating from his shoulder; it has been packed with poultice and potion but already the flesh was turning black and rotten. Khoga has never heard his mighty father sound so weak. 

"Come c-closer." Khota rasped, eyes wet with pain, waving weakly his son to join his deathbed. "There is m-much I m-must tell you, before it's t-too late." Each word was a determined effort, there was something important Khota wanted to impart on his only son, who at the time was only eighteen years old. "Our Lord G-ganon has sent me a vision. Quickly – you must c-come closer."   
  
His own eyes glistening with grief, Khoga, soon to be the Master of the mighty Yiga, threw himself to his father's side and clasped his hand within his own. He listened with rapt attention, hanging onto every one of Khota's final words. What he was told, on the eve of a blood moon, sixty years after the Calamity took Hyrule Castle, changed the way the Yiga clan operated forever. 

Two weeks after the burial of the once Mighty Khota saw the Yiga clan uprooted from their frozen home. They travelled south, traversing harsh terrain until their surroundings were more temperate. As they travelled, they shook off their furs and their heavy armour – their new home was to be warmer than their last. Eventually they arrived at their destination, a sheltered canyon in the northern regions of the desert, offering a welcome respite from the heat. Here, Khoga announced their new hideout and the Yiga set about turning the abandoned caves and crevices into their new home. Only Khoga and his Mother, who still wore all black in mourning, knew the true reason for their sudden relocation. Khota had advised them of a treasure, hidden deep in the canyon, a gift given to them for their loyalty. 

It was two bitter and hot years before they found what they were looking for. The Yoga has escavated the canyon, digging deeper and deeper into the caves and the sand until they unearthed the secret Khota has bestowed onto his son. A shrine, no – a tomb. The door to this tomb was obsidian, black as the night. A symbol, not unlike the upside down eye of the Yiga glistened in red on the door, as fresh as if it had been carved that very day. Khoga and his mother stood before it, shaking with excitement at the prospect of finally gaining an upper hand to rid Hyrule of the Sheikah tribe once and for all. 

"Your father would be proud." Beeta said, placing a steady hand on her son's shoulder. "It is as he said – our ancestors have gifted us an advantage. We need only to open that door, and we will command prophecy." 

Khoga stepped forward, his fingers finding the edges of the cold, blackened door. "To victory, Mother – hail Lord Ganon." His muscled rippled with the force it took to open that door. It had been closed for more than three millennia, perhaps longer, buried underneath a tonne of sand and stone, but it eventually swung open and the Master of the Yiga found himself bathed in an etheral, blue light. It was as his father said – a tomb, a prison for the Yiga's deadliest secret. After a moment the light faded, and inside the tomb became as dark as the night. A little disappointed, Khoga stepped forward – standing within the door way a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the inky blackness. 

Beeta stayed outside, watching with trepidation as her only son stepped into the sealed room. She was afraid of what they would find, even though in his last breathe her darling husband had assured them it would be a gift. Not all gifts were safe. A scream came from the tomb, and with that sound Beeta's heart sunk to the floor. A dizzying moment passed before she realised that the scream had turned into peels of manic laughter, it was another moment before she realised that that laughter was her own sons. 

"Khoga?!" She cried, stepping into the obsidian room. "Khoga darling are you alright?!" His outline was just visable, a mere metre before her. At first she thought he was alone, but then in the darkness she made out what had caused her son such myrth. Beyond him, what could only have been an arms distance away, peered two angry, red eyes. "Oh to Victory my darling!" She cried, allowing her eyes to adjust. "It is as he said!" 

* * *

What Khoga found in that tomb that day was not what he expected to find. His father had promised a weapon, but what they found was a demon. Or at least, that's what he told his clansmen. 

"Behold!" He yelled, dragging a compliant figure by the arm behind him. "I have us a gift!" With an exuberant gesture, he tossed his prize onto the ground by his feet. "I have claimed this demonic gift from our Lord as our own!" There was a mutter of confusion, had someone broken into the hideout? Seeing their confusion, Khoga laughed, his hands on his hips. The boy, for that was what he threw, climbed onto his elbows and knees, his red eyes blearily blinking towards the crowd, his confusion echoed in the faces of the onlooking Yiga. Khoga continued to laugh, lifting his foot to place it firmly on the back of his squirming prize. It grunted with the force, pain shining across the red iris. "We have here an undying assassin! A slave to do our bidding!" 

The "slave" stopped moving, the weight of the boot on his back pinning him down. In the way of thoughts, he had very little. All he knew was that forever there had been darkness, and now he was out. His mind was muddy, thick, and unresponsive. There was a feeling in his limbs, _pain_ , that he could not quite pin down. 

From the crowd, there were questions. There were a few of the Yiga who thought their Master had gone mad to claim that he had freed a demon, of all things. Held by his boot was the figure of a boy, his hair blonde and tied in a braid below his shoulder. He was clad in the clan's colours, although he looked thin and ragged underneath the armour. His tabard adorned the Yiga symbol, and there was what looked like a scarf around his neck. What was most peculiar however, was the iron contraption that covered the bottom half of his face. It was akin to a bridle that may have been used to lead a horse, although it covered his nose and mouth with a solid plate of metal. It was tight to his olive skin, held on by a metal band that was locked at the back of his head. It looked to the room to be restrictive, and that it was. Behind the metal plate was an evil contraption, a gag ending in a solid metal spike into the boy's tongue, rendering him speechless and subservient. 

Khoga would soon realise, after a careful comb of the tomb, what he hand found that day shackled to the wall like an animal. With the help of Beeta, they trawled through the manuscripts that were sealed with their demon. They had found the Yiga's greatest prize and greatest secret - a undying youth who could do their bidding. Nothing, save decapitation, could cause him to expire. The manuscripts described experiments to gauge his durability, poison, fire, drowning, starvation and suffocation, and whilst he had suffered, he had never died. With the manuscript they found a key to the iron bridle that he wore. 

_'-while he has never defected, we observed that prolonged wearing of the bridle keeps Sheik humble and subdued. We do not recommend its removal -'_

They had found Sheik, an experiment from the early days of the creations of the guardians. The manuscripts detailed his capture and his cognitive realignment. Originally experimented on by the Sheikah, Sheik had been commandeered by the Yiga in his infancy and used for the betterment of his new clan. Why he had been sealed, was unclear. 

"He will be our secret weapon, our enemies must not know." Beeta confided to her son, eyeing their prize proudly. 'Sheik' had been placed in the corner of the room, eyeing them warily through heavy eyelids. Truth be told, he made her nervous - the longer he was amongst them, the more she swore she could see a returning of intelligence to his eyes. Muted, he could not express his thoughts, and Beeta had easily convinced Khoga to keep him that way. "He needs no sustenance, a tool only needs a purpose." She had said, urging her son to return his new pet to its room when not needed. 

And so was Sheik's life for the next thirty years, even after Beeta's return to the ash. Returned to the darkness of his tomb, only unleashed when there were orders to assassinate. He was a lone rogue, saved only for the most delicate of missions, lest their enemies learn of him. Time passed differently for him, alone with his thoughts in the darkness when he was not needed, longing for the door to just _open_. Each time it did he was presented with his Master who was aging before his eyes, ready to give him another mission, a direction. 

"Perfect pet." Khoga purred as his favourite toy laid the severed head of his Gerudo target at his feet. Sheik's heart swelled with pride. He lived to serve. It had been a tricky mission, and to his shame Sheik had been seen. " _Almost_ perfect." Khoga added. "There is a rumour of a man in an iron mask striking down Gerudo patrols – now _how could that be?"_

Silent, as always, Sheik knew he had failed his master.   
  
It was ten long, lonely years before he saw the light again. 

"My _pet."_ Sheik shied from the light, blinking blearily into the torch light, recognising immediately the voice of his Master. "I have a very special mission for you, sent to me by our Lord." 

Thankful for the forgiveness, Sheik was ready to serve. 


	2. Southward

Sheik could not remember a time before. All he knew was wakefulness and a deep, throbbing pain. The worst pain always came once the door was opened - a sharp, blinding pain that seemed to pierce his retina and explode behind his eyes as if a bomb had gone off between his ears. It was maddening at first, leaving him disorientated. In his room, all he knew was darkness and silence and his own, muted thoughts. The passing of time was strange and foreign to him, there were only two meaningful instances in his life, the time he was in his tomb, and the time he was out. If he dared to think of his own preference he supposed he preferred the times that he was out, even if the outside world was strange and nonsensical.

Each time he emerged from his dark tomb, the people he was to serve looked different. Sometimes it was just the colour of their hair, or the lines on their face and sometimes they never reappeared at all. Sheik was never aware of the passing of time, but before he met Master Khoga it had seemed an unusually long time since he had been needed. Alone in the dark he had dared to allow his mind to wonder when the door would next open. _Would_ it open again? Had he angered his Master in some way that he was being punished? He would never know, as his Master at the time had been poisoned, and the knowledge of Sheik had died with him and his clan. Not that he was ever made aware, all Sheik knew was that the opening of the door was a blessing, and that he should be thankful to those to let him out, thankful in a way that promised he would always do their bidding, without question. Sometimes the Masters would make promises to him, they would promise to keep him out of the tomb, or to remove the iron contraption that bound his face. Sometimes they would promise that if he was just good enough, they would give him wine or food. But Sheik was never good enough, and he always vowed to try harder – he owed it to them after all. 

The sun had already set when Master Khoga let him out, the hideout was cooling and the Yiga who were still awake were yawning and ready to retire. A few of the younger clansmen looked on in sick fascination, eyes drawn to the iron bridle that obscured the lower half of his face. They had heard stories of the assassin but seeing Sheik in the flesh was always gawk worthy. Some would unashamedly point, pulling at the tabards of their parents in awe. 

"You may kneel there," Khoga said dismissively, waving his hand to a spot on the floor. The Master Yiga collapsed heavily into his chair, already decanting a red liquid into an ornate goblet sitting on his bedside table. These were his bedchambers, surprisingly lush in comparison to the rest of the hideout. Sheik did as he was told, suppressing a groan as he manoeuvred his still stiff body to kneel on the stone. "I'd offer you wine, but we both know it would be a waste." He took a long drink from the goblet he held in his hand. “Perhaps another time.”

Head bowed; Sheik observed Khoga as best as he could. The man had not aged well. Where once he had been fit and lean, now a gut protruded over the bedclothes he was wearing. He was mask less, his face lined deep with age and his once jet black hair was starting to recede and grey.

Sheik was made to kneel for a few agonising minutes, Khoga ignored him for the best part of it, drinking his wine until the deep goblet was empty, idly leafing through two scrolls on his lap. Another minute passed before he threw one of them to the ground before Sheik's hands.

"That's your target - the remaining Champion of Hyrule. We need him dead, and he holds some sort of device. I want it. You will get it for me and bring me proof that the Hylian is dead and unable to return again."

Again? Sheik studied the scroll before him, an artist's sketch of a Hylian. He was impressed with the detail, committing to memory the blonde hair and blue eyes and the shape of his face. "The sword is a giveaway - I've been informed he now has something called the Master Sword. He rides a bay mare, or so I have been told. My operatives have told me he has already freed two of the divine beasts, he should be on his way to Vah Medoh in the Hebra mountains." Khoga paused deliberately, and Sheik lifted his gaze from the scroll. "He's already killed too many of our clan, bested each and every one of them. I want him dead, and I want it done quickly. I don't care what you have to do."

He was a last resort then. Sheik nodded his understanding, tucking the scroll into a pocket underneath his tabard.

"You will not fail me, Sheik. You will either succeed, or die trying. Know that to return empty handed means your death."

A dark threat, and one that Sheik took little notice of - he would not fail.

\-------------------------

The Rito were a hospitable bunch, thought Link, as he joined them in their festivities. Van Medoh was back under their control, no longer terrorising the skies and the mighty Rito had plenty to celebrate about.

"To the Hero of Hyrule!" Someone drunkenly toasted, and not for the first time. A cheer erupted from those left at the festivity. Apparently, however hardy and skilled these warriors were, they could not hold their drink. Link grinned as yet another ale was put before him. The crowd was thinning over time, and of those that were left, roughly a quarter were asleep at their tables.

"You look like you could go another round. Tell me, is our beer too weak or your stomach too strong?" Link turned to whoever it was addressing him, realising quickly that he would have to look _up_.

"Oh, hi Teba. Have you come to join me?" The Rito warrior smiled, sinking into the empty seat beside the Hero.

"We have not had a celebration as grand as this since before I can remember. You have done Hyrule justice today - we are forever in your debt." The Rito was a formidable figure, grandiose and fierce - but at this moment all that Link could feel from the mighty warrior was his kindness, and his weariness.

"I'm not looking for debts," Link admitted, taking a small sip of his drink - it was bitter and earthy, warming him down to the depths of his stomach. "I'm just trying to right a few wrongs."

The silence from his drinking partner was deafening. "It's a huge burden to bear, the fate of a kingdom. You've come this far - are you sure you can go the rest alone?"

"I'm not alone." Link pulled the Sheikah slate from his belt, placing it gently on the table between them. "Whatever is written for me, whatever happens, happens for a reason."

"Three down, one to go I suppose."

The blonde grinned wickedly, raising his cup off of the table in salute, "I'll drink to that!"

\-------

The Hero of the wilds, _and how he hated to be called as such,_ left early the next morning. He made it down the village path uninterrupted, most of the adults were sleeping late after their night of debauchery and with dawn only just making her appearance, the children were still in bed. His horse was waiting patiently for him outside of the stables, pawing at the ground with her one white socked hoof. He hadn't really named her yet, and she didn't seem to care as long as he provided her with carrots or apples and occasionally the odd lump of sugar. Her saddle and bridle were sat waiting against a fence post; by the looks of it one of the Rito had buffed and shined the saddle. The thoughtfulness made Link smile as he absentmindedly hummed to himself while he worked, although he could not remember much of the Hyrule before he slept, sometimes he was reminded that although there was evil plaguing the land, there were still kind folk going about their daily lives.

Saddling his horse was short work, the air was still crisp with the morning dew by the time Link had turned his attention southwards. With Vah Medoh free from malice, Link's next objective was the divine beast terrorising the desert. As long as the weather stayed fair and he paced his ride well, he could be there in just under six days ride. The weather was promising - the further south that Link rode the warmer and more pleasant the air became. By midday Link had shed his cloak and his mood had lifted into song; he hummed loudly as he rode, enjoying the warming breeze on his skin.

Not even an hour later his mood had plummeted to the depths of his stomach.

" _What?!"_ He cried, causing his mare to knicker nervously. "You've got to be _kidding_ me!"

Where once the Kolami bridge had provided a safe passage over the canyon, now there was nothing but an impassable void and the smell of hot, aridic smoke. Link dismounted in disbelief and peered carefully over the edge of the cliff. His nose had told the right story, black smoke was just barely visible billowing at the base of the crevice. It caught the back of his throat, causing Link to choke and move back towards his horse - who was still throwing her head and shifting uneasily. She mirrored her master's feeling, the bridge had caught fire recently - how convenient that it happened when it did.

"Well, we've wasted our time going this way Girl, we better make tracks." He mounted her quickly, throwing his cloak back over his shoulders. Link couldn't shake the sudden uneasy feeling that he was being watched. His journey southward had been lonely, he had yet to meet a soul on the road - a fine opportunity to ambush. He hissed in frustration, urging his mare onwards into a fast canter northbound the way they came. If someone was trying to mess with him, they had a lot to learn about the Hylian Champion.

\--------

It was simple, really, when given an ounce of intelligent thought. The best way to kill a wolf was to slow it, disorientate it, and then snipe it when it was too weary to run. Heading in fists first into the wolf's den was not only foolish, it was suicide - which was what most of the previous Yiga assassins had failed to realised. He supposed that it was only natural for them to think like that - their lives were so brief that by the time they had learned the errors of their ways it was far too late for them. Even though they were all in essence _his masters_ Sheik found the vast majority of the Yiga dull and predictable. He found most Hylians dull and predictable, going about their mundane lives in blissful ignorance.

Sheik's vantage point was a good one, he had settled himself in the shadows of a hill overlooking the burning bridge midmorning. This would be his chance to lay eyes on his Mark, his first look at the mighty Hylian Champion that his Master so badly wanted dead.

The Hylian didn't disappoint. Right on time, just as the Sun was beginning its decent into the western world he heard the unmistakable sound of hooves on the hard ground accompanied by the melodic sound of humming _. Someone's happy_ , thought Sheik _, but not for long_. If he could have written, Sheik could have composed a play on how he thought this scenario would play out. Enraged, the humble Hero looked over the cliff in disbelief as his path was thwarted. And even better, he knew he was being watched.

Paranoia was a good thing to instil in his victims. Sheik planned on following the Hylian for a while yet - making sure to stay unseen but making his presence known.

Once his Mark had disappeared from view, Sheik stood and stretched, his muscles were still tight from his inactivity - however long it had been.

It was good to be out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying to find the motivation to keep going! Promise! I have a real direction of where this is going, I just need to get there!


	3. Hebra

Galli, the owner of the Rito Stable, looked bemused as Link appeared mid-afternoon, covered in canyon dust and lizalfos blood. He could see that the Champion was frustrated, bordering on angry.

"Ho there, Champion - did you forget something?" he called out from his desk, chuckling to himself as Link dismounted his horse and stomped over.

"The bridge is out - it's been set alight."

"Oh? Well that's not good. I did wonder where my wares had gotten to, I'm expecting a delivery." In an instant his amusement was replaced with seriousness, a deep frown clouding his face. "You look as if you've had a scuffle to get here."

"That's the best of it - no less than three ambushes, it's as if they were waiting for me on my way back. I've wasted half a day." Link sighed in frustration, indicating to his spoiled clothes in dismay. "Any chance of a quick bath and a feed for my horse before I set out again? I'm going to try and make it to Hebra tower before nightfall." 

Galli nodded, calling over his shoulder for someone to start heating water. "That I can do - it'll be five rupees for the hot water and another five for the feed." Link supressed a scoff at the price, digging through his purse for the fee. He supposed they had to make a living, but he was becoming concerned his funds were looking dangerously low.

An hour later and he was on his way again, clean and clothed in the warm armour of the region. He pushed Riza (he had decided that if he was going to work his horse hard for the rest of the day, she should at least have a name) into a gallop as soon as he saw a stretch of open path in front of him. She took the pace easily, despite the ever-changing tundra that was appearing beneath her hooves. The bitter cold hit them both suddenly, as if they had galloped headfirst into a wall of ice. This is what Link had hoped to avoid, he hated the cold and had been looking forward to warmer weather. He swore that if he found out who had destroyed the bridge, be it man or monster, he would unleash upon them merry hell. Riza whined, as if sensing her master's dark thoughts.

"Yah!" Was her only answer, and since she was a loyal and dutiful beast, she complied, picking up her pace so that there was a cloud of snow and ice trailing behind them.

Even though she was a good horse, after an hour of an all-out gallop she stopped. Her flanks were soaked in sweat, and her chest heaved at the exertion. The sudden halt, to his annoyance, caused Link to fly forward from his saddle and land in a pile of thankfully soft, wet snow. Despite his foul mood, Link laughed. He was soaked, now sore, and chilled to the bone.

"Alright - alright." He chuckled, pulling himself back onto his feet. "I'm sorry for pushing you so hard. You are right, I'm wrong. We'll walk for a while - deal?" She gave him a stony look, still catching her breath. "Will an apple convince you to carry on?" Another flat stare. "A carrot _and_ an apple?" Riza puffed a hot breath of air into his face, headbutting him in the process. All was forgiven for now. Link supposed it was time for a stop anyway, his own stomach rumbled with hunger.

"We're losing the daylight." He muttered to himself. Riza had had her snack, and he was crunching through an apple as they walked. The Hebra tower, thankfully, was now visible in the distance - but it was still a few hours away. "An hour and a half, two maybe. Then it'll be pitch dark. This was a bad idea." He mused to himself, completely aware that his horse was unable to answer. Had she been able to, she would have agreed. Their journey had so far been uneventful, the only monster camp they had encountered had been too disorganised to cause them any problem and they had ridden right by. 

The snow provided a sort of eery silence, like a thick blanket covering your head causing the outside sound to be muffled and indiscrete. The afternoon sun made the ground bright and blinding, the heat from the sun meant the ride had been almost pleasant. However as the sun was beginning to set behind him, the temperature was starting to drop and the surroundings were becoming hauntingly silent. The hairs on the back of Link's neck stood on end, and Riza was beginning to whine nervously again. There it was again, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. Link spurred Riza to pick up her pace - the sooner they reached the tower the better.

The tower was a welcome sight after the day's toils. Link would have wept in relief, if only his face was not numb with the cold. As quickly as he could he made a fire and sat as close as he dared beside it. He could almost hear his hair singe from the flames. Once he was positively sweating from the heat, he allowed himself to stand back up and unpack his bed roll and a few items of food to roast from Riza's saddlebags. She nickered and blew hot air over the top of his hair as he approached, and he allowed himself a few moments to gently rub her neck.

"If only you could talk, what would you tell me?"

The roast fish was plain, but good. His stomach was thankful for the hot meal. He had rolled a few apples over to his horse, and she now stood a few metres away grazing on a some greenery she had managed to find amongst the snow. As was his bedtime tradition, Link pulled out his slate in order to study the map and pictures that were stored there. "I think that bridge has added a few days onto our trek." He sighed, clipping the slate back onto his belt. Riza ignored him, intent only on her graze. Link took no offence, groaning as he pushed himself upwards to stand. He needed to piss, badly. It was an act he dreaded in the snow, but he had learned the hard way not to relieve himself too close to where he was sleeping.

There was a small outcropping of bare trees, just beyond the light of the fire, that he made his way towards. There was a small incline which forced him to watch his footing. The world was silent around him, except for Link's sigh of relief as he 'watered the foliage'. He had stood for less a minute when the silence was broken with an inhuman, terrified scream.

Startled, Link hurried to finish, attempting to both run and pull his trousers back up to his hips. He recognised that sound, it was the terrified scream of a horse - and the only horse for miles was his own. He fumbled on his way back to the fire - which was reduced to a smouldering, hissing ember. The only light came from the tower, it's eery blue barely casting enough light to create a shadow. His camp was empty, his bedroll and meagre supplies untouched but his fire doused. Riza was nowhere to be seen or heard. He whistled for her, sword drawn. He saw no enemy and there was no sign that there had been anyone. Where Riza had stood was mostly undisturbed, it was difficult to see in the light, but Link knew the smell of blood and there was a small patch of dark fluid on the snow where she had stood. 

Link whistled again, the sound amplified by the snowy surrounding. Nothing. Frustrated, he turned to his camp - the embers had dwindled away, the wood was wet and useless. His bed was sodden. Someone was fucking with him. This was not a monster attack - the dull witted goblins weren't intelligent enough to not stick around - nor was it the result of wolves or leopard. Someone was deliberately messing with him, and by the looks of it they were determined to slow him down and strand him.

It wouldn't work, he hadn't come this far in his journey to be bested by mind games. Alert and wary, Link took refuge at the top of the tower for the night. He sat, stoic and watchful, until dawn - unwilling to sleep. It would take him longer, but tomorrow he would make his way to the next stables. He hoped that Riza would be there.

\--------

Of course, there was ample opportunity for Sheik to attempt to finish his mission sooner, but to be perfectly honest he was enjoying the change of scenery. Even the frozen Hebra region was an improvement to his black prison. He had a good view of the hero from where he sat, the tower was visible, and he was well hidden. He did not enjoy being cold, his Yiga uniform was designed for the dessert and offered no protection in the snow. Although the cold would not kill him, it certainly was bordering on unbearable.

_I'll let you leave the snowy mountains - Champion._ He thought, _I've had enough of the cold._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purpose of this story, Link cannot easily teleport between towers/shrines. I am making a creative decision (It's my story!) that Link can only teleport from shrine to shrine, and only once in a while. I'll explain it in a later chapter, just incase any of you are thinking Link could easily teleport to wherever he needs to go!


	4. Pinned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise this chapter is without errors - I just wanted it OUT. I hope you enjoy it!

Link stumbled into the Snowfield stables a little past midday. He was dirty, tired and covered from head to toe in moblin excrement. The stable boy smelled the Champion before he saw him, and ran screaming into the stable in fright. "Pa! Paaaa! There's a stinker in the yard! Paaaaaaaa!"

Link growled in frustration, at some point his boot had split (was it before or after the third camp of Moblins? He couldn't quite remember) and the cold snow had soaked his undergarments. He was sticky in places he wasn't sure existed, and his damp clothes had begun to chafe against his skin. All in all, he was in a foul mood.

To his credit, the Stable Master kept a straight face when he finally made his way outside. He was a wizened old man, one who knew not the laugh at the misfortunes of others, especially when they were dark about the ears in anger.

"Go and draw water for a bath, boy." The master ordered, clipping the stable boy around the ear as her stood gaping rudely at the sorry sight of a hero.

Grateful, Link followed the elderly man into the living area, dumping his soiled belongings and sinking heavily into a stool in front of the fireplace. There, he sagged, groaning as he slumped forward and allowed his head to fall forward between his knees. He had started walking at first light, unable to sleep high atop of the tower - too wary to rest. It had been slow going in the snow, even sticking to the path. It seemed at each bend, an ambush was waiting. He must have stumbled into no less than four camps, they were so frequent he didn't even bother sheathing his sword between each one. If it wasn't a camp then a particularly brave pack of wolves - and if not wolves then lazalfos. To put it bluntly, Link was so pissed off by the time he reached the stables even the critters ran from his sight.

"My horse - did she make it here? She might be injured." Link finally asked, lifting his head wearily from between his knees. Two of the Stable Master's daughters had dragged a copper tub in front of the fire, and they had set about filling it with piping hot water. He couldn't wait to sink into it.

The Master nodded, "Aye - a horse came here frightened late last night. She is wounded, as you say, but it's only a graze and as long as it's kept clean she'll be as good as new. She's stabled up and fed, she'll be fine for a ride as long as you don't work her hard."

Relieved, Link sighed, kicking off his soaking wet boots and unbuckling the various belts and britches of his armour. "I'm glad, she was attacked in camp last night, I've been worried about her. Was it animal or .. ? "

"Looked too clean if you ask me, a blade or arrow head - but I'm no expert." He handed Link a towel and turned to give him some privacy as he changed. "The bath is almost ready for you, I'll get you a hot meal ready for when you finished."

"Thank you kindly, for everything." Link replied, standing to shed the last of his clothes and wrap himself with the towel to save his decency, one of the daughters caught sight of him before he was fully covered, she yipped in embarrassment, her face turning a deep scarlet. The Champion only smiled kindly, unabashed.

Alone, Link sank himself into the hot water, hissing as his tired, cold muscles hit the scorching hot water. The water quickly turned murky once he dunked his filthy hair beneath the surface. They had left his two full bars of soap, and he ensured he lathered and rinsed until he could no longer smell his own stink. He had been unlucky enough slip into one of the monster camp's latrines during a fight - a filthy experience he had no desire to ever repeat or mention again. One of the daughters scurried back into the room, blushing prettily as she gathered the Hero's soiled armour and placed out a fresh set of undergarments. 

"C-can I get anything else for you? Master Link?" He shook his head ruefully, his amused smile returning.

"No thank you - I'm done wallowing in my own waste for now. Could you pass me the towel?" It might have been a little cruel and childish, but he found it amusing that she was so flustered in his presence, dropping the towel twice before thrusting it towards him. He stood as she turned, taking his time to step out of the cooling water.

She coughed nervously, holding out the clean clothes for him, unwilling to even look at his face or meet his eyes. Link laughed openly, and she blushed even harder - if even such a thing was possible. She was pretty, petite and compact with a soft, feminine face and long brown locks of hair ghosting the small of her back. She was still young, her skin freckled but otherwise unblemished. Pale as the snow. Homely, plain and wonderfully coy.

"How old are you?" He asked, letting the towel drop to the floor. Her back was turned, but he could see clearly that she flinched at the sound of it hitting the floor. He grinned, still entertained. He pulled on the linen shorts to cover his decency, making his way over to his packs to pull out a fresh set of clothing to wear. Involuntarily her hands flew to her mouth as he passed gasping a little in pleased surprise.   
  
Link was no fool, he knew that he was pleasing to the eye - months of hard training and travel had left him chiselled - a feature that was usually covered by the many layers of heavy garments. He was no stranger to women, usually after a night of frivolity, or during a night of foolery, they had commented on how pleasing he was to them. They often commented on his sharp, handsome features and deep blue eyes - so he knew that the embarrassment that the pretty little maiden was feeling now was lustful, rather than bashful.

He cocked his head when she didn't immediately answer, smiling as she realised her jaw was dropped and at her startled realisation that she was impersonating a goldfish. "I'm seventeen, Master Link!" She finally answered, a little too loudly.

He laughed fully this time, which seemed to strangely put her at ease. She smiled shyly, clearing her throat with a little more confidence. "You can drop the 'Master', I'm just Link."

"Oh, Link then. My name's Pirdah, me and my sister are twins. She's called Parma. How old are you then, since you are so bold as to ask my age?" Early awkwardness forgotten, she plonked herself beside the Hero as he started eating the lunch she had brought for him.

Around a mouthful of bread, Link smirked, chewing thoughtfully as he admired the gutsy girl helping herself to his lunch. "About a hundred and twenty." He casually replied, watching carefully for her reaction. Her jaw dropped again, and she frowned adorably as she tried to assert to herself the Hero's words.

"That's old. You don't look old." She finally said, leaning forward to peer curiously into his eyes.

"Sometimes I feel it. Today I feel it." He sighed, his mind suddenly back to business. He didn't have time to fool around, although he did promise himself that he would return to sample the locale once he had more time. Link finished the mouthful he was on and set about the mindless task of tightening buckles and securing his armour. Pirdah watched him, enamoured even as he ignored her. 

"Serene stables are south - how long will it take me to get there?"

____

Riza seemed happy to see him, if headbutting him hard enough make him see stars was any indication. Along with the Stable Master, Link inspected his mare, paying close attention to the wound on her hind leg. It was definitely deliberate. He swore he would spear the bastard who dared hurt his horse.

"Remember, don't run her too hard - make sure Mirrium at Serene sees her as soon as you get there. It'll need cleaned, but really it's not too bad. Whatever did this, didn't want to hurt her - not too bad any how."

Serene stables was not even half a day's ride away, as long as nothing else _freakish_ happened he could be there by sundown.

"I can't thank you enough." The Hero said, handing over the remainder of his rupees.

The stable master waved them away, pushing the wallet back to towards the Champion. "Not this time, you can pay me back another day. It’s bad luck to take the last rupee from a man down on his luck."

"As if all I need is less luck. Thank you kindly."

And then he was off, urging Riza into a steady canter and waving goodbye to the kind sisters and their father. He felt remotely human again, refreshed and stomach full. Riza was in good spirits, and the further east they travelled, the milder the weather became. They finally came to where the path turned fully south, a foreboding canyon flanking their right side. Still, the path was wide and downhill, and if Link remembered correctly they were only a few hours away from their next stop and so far the ride had been uneventful.

\----

He was an hour from the stables when his horse suddenly stopped, rearing onto her back legs and screaming into the wind. Link soothed her quickly, pulling on the reigns and holding on for dear life as Riza's eyes whaled and she backed up nervously. The snow had long disappeared, the landscape was turning greener the further south they rode, trees were beginning to line the road. Link didn't see what frightened Riza immediately, not until he had dismounted. He felt a strange prickling feeling on the back of his neck, as if he was being watched again. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw movement, but it was soon forgotten as a quiet, hopeless wailing greeted him through the trees.

It sounded like the cries of a child, desperate and scared. A few days ago, Link may have ran towards the sound without hesitation, but the last twenty four hours had felt wrong and the uneasy feeling would not dissipate from the depths of his stomach. The sound of the wails changed direction - where it had been to his left now it came from the right. Wary, Link drew the Master Sword and readied his shield, stepping carefully as he moved forward along the road. Every sense was on high alert, he was hyper aware of every sound and every breath of wind around him. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, his concentration intense.

There.

With lightning reflexes Link turned, raising his sword at the last moment. The sound of metal on metal echoed through the trees and Link was suddenly face to face with the bastard who was stalking him.

"Yiga," Link spat, striking the masked figure with the edge of his shield. Lightning fast, his opponent bounced back, barely giving Link a second to breath before they were on him again.

Link had defeated many of the Yiga clan since his awakening, however this was different - he barely had time to act on anything more than instinct and reflex as his attacker was assaulting him with such speed and sheer recklessness that he it was taking all of his effort just to ensure he was blocking the blows.

Strike after strike, the masked assailant relentlessly attacked. Link grunted with the force of the blows, so far he had only managed to defend against his opponents short sword, a swinging dance of defend, parry and defend again. He felt every blow with the length of his arm behind his shield, the clash deafening his ears with every strike.

It was madness.

It a desperate attempt to buy himself a second to _just think_ Link used his weight behind his shield to batter the Yiga away. It barely gave him a second, but he used the opportunity to create distance between them. The Yiga paused, his chest heaving up and down in excerption.

Link was still breathing evenly, assessing his opponent as he did in every fight. So far he knew two things - this person was incredibly fast and fought with a recklessness Link had only every really seen in men about to die, but he didn’t necessarily have the stamina to keep it up.

Before the Yiga could act, Link jumped into an offence, attempting to wear down his opponent as much as he was able. The strategy itself was unusual, every Yiga agent Link had fought provided a show - smoke and mirrors and noise. This one was silent, deadly and intent only on the kill.

Every blow Link made was countered, every counter reencountered until even the Champion began to fight in desperation. His opponent never slowed, not even once, they were both locked into a furious dance - equally matched. He would maybe had enjoyed the fight had he not been so ridiculously tired and _pissed off._

It was luck, rather than skill that gave Link the upper hand. He mistimed a counter which ended in his favour, instead of striking back the assaulting blade, the flat blade of the Master sword struck flesh in the form of the Yiga's knuckles. With a grunt, the red gloved hand released the blade automatically, startled. Link didn't think about his next move, he felt it - bringing his now battered shield to slam full force into the mask face in front of him. The mask cracked under the pressure, flying six feet into the air in two pieces as the attacker lost his balance and fell onto his back, dazed.

Without thinking, and with a brutality usually only reserved for monsters, Link threw himself onto of the assailant and sank his sword into his left shoulder, pinning them to the ground.

They screamed in pain, the sound muffled. Panting, Link fell forward himself, straddling the body beneath him, hand still firmly holding the hilt of the sword which was now sunken into both flesh and ground. Blue eyes wide, Link took a second to stare into the face of his pinned prisoner. It wasn't what he was expecting.

The sheikah were known for their red eyes, so the blood red iris were not unexpected, but what was unexpected was the cast iron muzzle that covered half of his face. His. He assumed he was male, he certainly _looked_ male, from what Link could see and feel beneath him. 

"Your," deep breath, still panting, "Stupid. Clan" every word was deliberate, laboured, "need to just. Give. Up." Perhaps it was spite and the truly awful two days he had experienced that made Link twist his sword a little with every word - he would never admit that the small flashes of pain he swore he saw in those red eyes made up a little for the hardship he had endured. He'd never admit he was a little lost in them, either.

But Link would swear he saw those eyes grin. What happened next stunned him.

With his left hand, the fallen assassin grasped the hilt of the master sword and in one smooth motion, pulled himself, flesh and all, _upwards_ along the blade towards a shocked Champion. Truly taken by surprised, the Master sword still buried in the ground, Link didn't stop him. Before he could gather his stunned wits, Link felt a stabbing hot pain in his side. He howled in pain, feeling himself propelled backwards by a well placed boot on his chest. The force of the kick threw him, blade and all, into the dirt. He heard the sickening slurp as his sword tore itself back out through dirt and muscle, the Yiga assassin scrambling backwards himself, blood gushing from the gaping wound on his shoulder.

Link looked down at where he was sure he had been stabbed, and sure enough the hilt of a dagger protruded from the soft flesh above his hip. He wasn't stupid enough to remove it, as much as he wanted to.

"Bastard!" Link spat, pulling himself to his knees and then to his feet. Good, he could still walk. The Yiga swayed, taking a step backwards warily. His left arm hung limply at his side, blood pooling into a puddle at his feet. Link had covered about half of the distance before the Yiga, suddenly gathering his wits, threw something to the ground which exploded in a cloud of dust and smoke. When it cleared, he was gone.

Swearing loudly, Link whistled his horse. She sniffed him nervously, standing still as he hauled himself into the saddle. He didn’t even need to nudge or direct her, Riza spurred herself into motion and carried her now unconscious master in the direction of their nearest safety. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs away*


	5. Do as I say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to keep things moving. Nothing much happens, but enjoy anyway!

Sheik slumped onto the ground like a sack of flour, falling to his knees. He had only managed to teleport a few hundred metres away, but it had been enough. His left arm hung uselessly at his side, his hand twitching painfully with every movement. He dared, using his right arm, to pull down the tight armour from his shoulder and inspect the damage. It was a bloody, gory mess. Grimacing, he dug around the wound with his free hand, assessing the damage as best he could. Painful, but it would heal.

He always healed. He had yet to have any real lasting effect from an injury he had received. Once, as a sick experiment, one of the Yiga masters cut off his left hand. It took an agonisingly long time, but eventually his flesh twisted and grew until another hand took the place of the bloody stump. He shuddered thinking about it.

Truth be told, he was mildly impressed that the Hylian Champion had managed such a blow. He had watched him fight monsters and had convinced himself that his opponent was more brawn than brains. His mind whirred a mile a minute as he worked, transferring some of the bandages from his armour to stem the bleeding in his shoulder. The blood loss wouldn’t kill him, but it would slow him down. Now that the Hylian Champion had seen him, and knew what stalked him, Sheik would have to act quickly to take him down. He had wounded him, but he knew it wouldn’t be a mortal wound - more a lucky stab in the proverbial dark.

It would buy him time, not much - and especially less now that he was effectively down to one working arm for the time being.

Enough time to rest for now, blissfully alone.

\-----

When Link came too he was disorientated and confused. He was swaddled in a warm bed in an unfamiliar room, and acutely aware that he was undressed and tightly bandaged around his midriff. It took him a moment to remember why he was wherever he was, and how exactly he had gotten here.

A door opened and an elderly woman entered with a pitcher of water. "You're awake!" She seemed surprised, rushing over to his bedside and placing the pitcher down haphazardly.

"Yeah… I suppose so?" He tried to sit, groaning as the tightness in his side turned to pain. How stupid, a stab wound. "How did I get here?"

The elderly woman poored him a cup of water, for which Link was thankful. She tutted without immediately answering him, opting to pull away the bed sheets in order to inspect the meticulous bandages. Satisfied, she pulled the covers back over and set Link with a steady, frightening gaze.

"You are exceedingly fortunate that I was passing through. I was just about to leave really, when your horse arrived carrying you like a babe into the yard. By some miracle, you'll live." She said dryly, taking back the cup of water before Link had even finished.

He laughed softly, the movement jostling his wound and making him wince. "I'm sorry to be such a burden - I was hoping for an uneventful trip."

Her hard glare continued, but Link could sense there was no real malice. "My name is Link, would you honour me with the name of who has nursed me for however long?"

"All night and all damned morning. My name is Morag _. Doctor_ Morag to you, or you can simple call me Ma'am. Either will do." She paused, cocking her head to the side in thought. Link guessed she was perhaps in her late late forties, her hair had long since turned grey and was tied into a tight bun on the top of her head. "Link, as in the one that’s been travelling around recklessly on some suicide mission?"

" _Suicide mission_?!" Link replied. All he could do was laugh, and even though it hurt, it was worth it. "Is that what they are calling it?" He asked, amused. He wiped the tears from his eyes and was pleased to see the severe Doctor soften.

"It's what I've been calling it. I stand by what I say, you're a very fortunate child." Morag stood straight, using the back of her hand to assess the temperature of the Champion's forehead. She gave a small grunt, which Link took to mean everything was fine, and then proceeded to pick up his limp wrist, checking his pulse.

"I've had my fair share of luck. How long until I can be back on the road?"

She stopped what she was doing, fixating Link with an icy cold stare that genuinely frightened the warrior. "The road? As in, leave? As in _, Link_ ," the way she said his name made him shiver in fear, "you want to undo all of the hard work I have put in keeping you alive so that you _can foolishly_ walk into another fight you can't handle _and waste my time_?"

"Ah - well - no - I didn't -"

"Well _, Idiot Boy_ , you could leave by the morrow, you'll be healed enough, after all you _were incredibly fortunate_ not _to die_. But I wouldn't recommend it. But who am I to argue _with Hyrule's last hope_ **I'm just a Doctor."**

Whatever Link was about to say, stayed firmly caught in his throat. There had been many times recently Link had been scared, yesterday to name one, but he couldn't remember a time he was genuinely terrified - and especially not by another human being. Lynels, now they were scary. But Morag? She was on another level.

**"** I'm sorry." He eventually managed, feeling six inches tall under her intense gaze. "Thank you for saving me Doctor. I'll just go to sleep now?"

She seemed satisfied with his suggestion. **"And no more talk of leaving until I say you can**." 

"No Ma'am. I wouldn't dare Ma'am." he squeaked, appalled at how young he sounded.

Her cold stare finally softened, and she took a step back. Link couldn’t remember when she started towering over him, or when he had stopped breathing, but he finally exhaled to the relief of his lungs.

"Good. I don't appreciate an insolent patient. Hero or not, do as your Doctor says." And with that she left, taking the pitcher from the night stand and slamming the door behind her. Link was left feeling chastised. Still, terrified of the consequences that would await him if he disobeyed, Link shuffled back down into the bed covers and with surprising ease, fell asleep.

\-----


	6. Dawn

A Cukoo awoke Link from his slumber some time later. The room was dark, curtains drawn over the window to block out the light. He could hear the horses fussing out in the paddock, and a mule bayed irritably from somewhere outside. Other than that there wasn't much movement, and from the promising silence, he guessed it was dawn.

Gingerly he sat up, looking around nervously before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. No crazy Doctor assaulted him from the shadows, and Link felt safe once again. He was pleased to feel very little pain from the wound on his side, the bandages were clean and dry and expertly applied, he felt almost sorry to be undoing them. Almost. Link had been on his own long enough to care for himself and was anxious to see the damage.

He was pleasantly pleased. The wound was smaller than expected, just an angry thin red line surrounded by a row of neat little stitches. Compared to his own efforts at stitching, they were a work of art. No doubt the advanced state of healing was due to a few elixirs, he spied an empty bottle on his bedside and a quick sniff confirmed the acidic, putrid scent of a healing potion - disgusting yet effective.

Holding his breathe, Link pushed himself to his feet; waiting for a pain that never manifested itself. By some miracle, he felt positively fine. There was some tugging at the stitches, uncomfortable but painless, as he dressed himself. Some kind soul had washed his clothes, they were clean and cool against his skin. Once his weapons and armour were accounted for, he stepped out of the small room and into the airy dining room of the stable inn. It was quiet, deathly so; only a rotund traveller remained by the smouldering embers of the fire, snoring into the crook of his arm whilst impressively still hanging onto a tumbler of ale.

Link stepped out of the warm lounge and into the cool air outside. He was tempted to find his horse, saddle her up, and go - a feeling he had experienced many a time. What must it be like - to be free to make your own choices? He wondered idly. He was suddenly aware of the heavy weight of the Master sword in his hands, startlingly - he didn't even recall drawing her from her sheath. Not for the first time Link found himself lost in his own reflection in the steel of the blade. It was still marred with blood from his last encounter.

An uneasy feeling settled in the bottom of his stomach and for the first time since the incident he wondered about the welfare of the assassin he had fought. He supposed the feeling was guilt - after all his lucky last blow would have been enough to maim his assailant. He had felt the crunching cartilage and bone in those final moments and knew that whatever the aftermath - it wouldn't be an easy recovery, if at all. He had never met a member of the Yiga clan so _vicious_ and reckless. Usually they fought with some self preservation, but there had been nothing. Just a set of determined blood red eyes and a strange mask beneath the standard Yiga mask. It was possibly the strangest thing Link had experienced since he had woken up, and definitely the thing that gave him most thought.

\------------

"Have you failed, little mouse?"

Sheik's eyes flew open as a boot found its way into his gut. He had taken refuge in the doorway of a derelict building the night before, mind addled by pain and blood loss. His arm had been useless, dangling listlessly at his side. He grunted as the boot pressed further into his stomach, raising his head angrily to see who dared bother him. A white masked head greeted him, leering down at him with the Yiga symbol prominent. There were two of them. Men - as far as Sheik could tell. One tall and skinny who was still toeing him with his foot, and another shorter and stocky who stood stiffly with folded arms.

"You don't look so well, why don't you tell me what's the matter?" Tall and skinny took a step back, allowing Sheik to pull himself to his feet as he laughed at his own joke.

Sheik didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction, instead pulling himself to his full height (still more than half a head shorter than Mr Skinny) and levelling the newcomer with a steady, impassive gaze. Sheik had learned a hard lesson, a long time ago, not to show emotion plain on his face. Thankfully he had years of experience behind him, Skinny was a mere pup in comparison.

"What a bore. I don't see why our Master relies on you - you're nothing special. You bleed like the rest of us. You're just a Mouse. A little Mouse without a thought of your own," Skinny prodded Sheik's shoulder with a long, bony finger and it took all of his willpower not to hiss as his wound was invaded. He didn't know who this clan member was, but he disliked him immensely. The taller man paused, pinching the wounded flesh cruelly as he feigned thought. "Just a little Mousey. Just a freaky Puppet. A _puppet mouse_."

Short and Fat stirred restlessly. "Be careful Yano, I've seen that thing gut a man faster than a wild dog. It's worse than a wild dog. Let's just do our job and get out of here."

Skinny, Yano, sighed. "You bore me as well Dumpry, am I to be denied all entertainment?" He pushed Sheik away with the flat of his palm, tutting in disappointment as Sheik barely swayed from the motion. "Listen here puppet mouse, Our Master grows tired of your gallivanting. He wants to know why your mark still lives."

Yano unsheathed his scythe from his hip, raising it so that the tip was in line with Sheik's eye. "Now," he continued, "I realise you are too stupid to answer, muzzled like the rabid dog you are - but I'll finish this message clearly so that even a dumb beast such as yourself can understand. Kill the Hylian, don't waste any more time. Report back when you are done and our Master will think about not locking you away for the rest of time. Do you understand Puppet-Mouse? Nod your simple little head if you do."

Sheik kept his breath even, kept his heart steady so not to appear flush with anger. Inside he was boiling red-hot with rage. It took every ounce of self control to keep his face passive, every ounce of self control to give one, curt nod and every ounce of self control not to kill the Yiga in front of him. He knew he could do it. He'd done it before - more than once. There was a reason he was subdued.

_I will kill you. When I am free. I will kill you._ The dark thought entered Sheik's mind fleetingly, a thought which must have briefly shown on his face because Short and Fat suddenly surged forward, grabbing his partner's belt and pulling him back.

"Enough Yano, don't anger it."

_It._ **_It._ **

**"** Don't let the Champion get to the Gerudo," Short and Fat snapped. "Stop pissing about." And in true cowardly Yiga style, with a smoky pop they were gone.

For a long while Sheik stood motionless, staring straight ahead at where his clansmen had once stood. Dark thoughts flitted behind his eyes, and his chest rose and fell heavily as the only indication he was alive. Finally, after an agonisingly long time, his fists clenched (he was pleased he had regained that ability in his left arm, proof that he was healing) tight and then released slowly. All the tension in his body seemed to dissipate, and the assassin turned to his shelter to pack up the meagre items he had. He had work to do.

\-----------

By the time the stable residents stirred into wakefulness, the Master sword gleamed. Link had spent a good few hours picking out the dried blood from the hilt and polishing her until she shone.

Morag found him before breakfast and didn't seem surprised that he was up and about. “Well aren’t you a resilient little man.” She scorned, sitting down on a stool across from him. Her grey hair was loose across her shoulders this morning, Link thought it made her look far less stern.

“Little man?” Link echoed, laughing good natured-ly. “I’m as resilient as I need to be, Doctor."

"Mmhm," She produced an apple and knife from her apron, proceeding to peel and slice it. "You're a fool if you go back out there alone."

"Don't worry about me - I'm always alone." He replied, gathering up his sword and scabbard. He stretched his tired limbs, grimacing as he felt the tug of his stitches.

The Doctor tutted, standing with up with him. Without asking, she grabbed at Link's shirt, pulling it up to inspect her handy work. She poked and prodded, making him hiss as her cold fingers touched warm flesh.

"Stop being a baby!" She chastised, straightening up - seemingly satisfied. "I suppose you plan on heading out."

"As soon as I can - evil to vanquish and all that." He replied wryly.

"Fine. Once an Idiot always an Idiot. I've arranged for two more of you idiotic kind to accompany you. There's safety in numbers, especially these days."

"I don't need - "

"Rumour has it you are heading to the desert. You're in luck, these two knuckleheads are going that way too."

"I travel alo-"

"They don't want payment, they seemed quite keen actually. Something about food poisoning. One's a Sheikah from Kakariko, the other is a lumberjack."

"I really -"

"Goliath and Kokto I believe their names are. Or was it Groham and Koda?"

"No you don't understa-"

"I can never remember names, but they are waiting inside and plan to leave before lunch."

"Morag!" Link found himself yelling. His face instantly reddened in embarrassment, a stable boy had turned to give him a strange look and one of the maidens giggled to her friend. He cleared his throat, starting again. "I travel alone. I appreciate your help, but I'll be fine on my own." He finished with a smile that he hoped was earnest.

The Doctor fixed him with an impassive stare, her arms folded, foot tapping on the dew-laden grass. Link gulped as she raised one greying eyebrow. "Is that so?"

\----

And so a few hours later Link found himself riding side by side with two new _, temporary_ , companions. Kino and Gret both hailed from Kakariko, a merchant and a mercenary for hire. They filled the silence with idle chatter, talking at Link rather than with him. Both claimed to be able swordsmen, but horrible cooks. They were on the way to pick up silks from the Oasis, but after a bout of Gret's cooking they had been forced to hold up at the Serene Stables until their sickness had passed. Link learned that they were twins, although they looked nothing alike. Both had the pale blonde hair Link had learned to associate with the Sheikah and both were tall and fit enough. Gret, however, sported a fantastic beard that he braided lovingly each morning whilst his more athletic and apparently useful brother, Kino, was clean shaven and hairless apart from the typical topknot atop his head.

Link supressed a sigh, their pace was (to him) slow and whilst the chat was _nice_ Link couldn't help wonder who was suppose to protect who.


	7. Monster

The sun was setting as the weary travellers made camp at a crossroads. To the east lay the dangerous Hyrule fields, the eerie Hyrule Castle could be seen peering through the darkness as Link and his 'companions' gentle stoked a fire to life. Their ride had been filled with idle chatter, Link had kept mostly to himself, offering socially acceptable answers when prompted to disguise the fact he wasn't really listening. His mind was elsewhere, the gentle pace had lulled him into a half slumber. By mid-afternoon the elixir Morag had forced down his throat had started to loose its potency and he was acutely aware that less than forty-eight hours earlier he had been brutally stabbed.

That particular encounter played on the Champion's mind over and over again. Nothing, _no one,_ he had ever encountered had ever attacked with such reckless abandon. Their only defence had been their almost inhuman speed.

"A rupee for your thoughts, Master Link?" Link snapped out of his train of thought, the fire was already roaring and the sky had turned an inky black. Gret was looking at him, concerned. He had been the one who had spoken and although Link had only ridden with the brothers for an afternoon, he already had the impression that Gret was far more sensitive than the hot headed Kino.

"Ah... Please drop the "Master", Link is fine." He answered, scratching the back of his head unconsciously. "I'm just thinking, sorry Gret."

"Thinking is dangerous on an empty stomach." The sheikah nodded wisely, his shaggy hair bouncing comically. Link couldn't help but smile, well aware there was a badly hidden hint in the sagely advice.

"I should help you rectify that, I think I could eat a horse."

In amicable silence, the three of them set up camp and cooked a simple meal - just a stew, but it was hearty and afterwards they sat by the fire contentedly.

Link found himself lost in the dancing flames, his mind once again wandering to a pair of angry red eyes.

"I'm being following." The admission came suddenly, and as such that Link didn't realise he had even spoken, but he breathed a sigh of relief once he said it - as if it somehow made it real.

"Is that unusual?" Kino asked in-between the rhythmic strokes of the sharpening knife on his sword. The sound was cathartic.

"Not usually, no. But this one is different. He's Yiga, but stronger and more violent than any I have encountered before."

As Link told his two companions of his assailant, Gret grew more and more tense and Kino's sharpening became slower and slower until he had completely stopped - his full attention focused on the Hylian Champion. Link explained how he had been forced to take the long route, that the bridge had been sabotaged, his horse had been injured and how he had been ambushed.

He had begun to tell them about the attackers red eyes and iron mask when Gret cried him to a stop.

"Did you say an Iron _Mask and_ red eyes? Blonde and young? Are you sure that's what attacked you."

Link nodded, perplexed at the look of absolute horror on the Sheikah's face. "Yes - I'm sure of it. Have you met him before?"

Kino came close to the fire, his sword long abandoned and his face was serious. "We have never met him, but we know of him. He is a Sheikah legend, a masked warrior working for the Yiga. A master assassin, a monster. They say the Goddess Hylia bound his mouth herself because the sound of his voice drove anyone who heard it to their deaths."

"That's not right Kino, It's because his mouth opens a portal into a dark realm, when he opens his mouth he sucks in everything around him and banishes it to darkness. The Goddess sealed him away because he would devour all of Hyrule if given the chance."

"Don't be stupid! How could he fit a person in his mouth?!"

"Don't call me stupid Kino! You know you're not allowed to call me stupid!"

"I'm the eldest - I can call you stupid if I want!"

"Stop, both of you!" Link shouted. As amusing as it was watching the two grown men bicker, he was not in the mood. "I don't believe in old wives tales, but there must be some truth somewhere. He hardly looked like a monster, how could he possibly be the same warrior in your stories?"

"They're more than stories and legends. He's an ancient weapon, responsible for the murder of hundreds of Sheikah. Our uncle was said to be one he killed, more than twenty years ago. Impa's father too. We all grow up hearing about him. It's said he's an ancient Sheikah gone rogue, doing the bidding of any and all our enemies." Kino was strangely animated in his explanation, waving his arms in grandeur. Link remained unconvinced, the answers to his questions unsatisfactory. He doubted anyone could be so old, but then again he had slept for a hundred years and hadn't aged a day - so he supposed it wasn't impossible.

"Well, whatever he is - he sure packs a punch." He winced at the memory, hand unconsciously cupping the neat stitches above his hip. "And he seemed determined, he's injured - but I doubt he's dead."

"You should ask Lady Impa about him, she may know more." Gret's idea was decent enough, and injured as he was Link felt a diversion back to Kakariko was a worthwhile trip; he needed to resupply anyway.

They spoke well into the night, Gret and Kino agreed to accompany the Champion back to their home town - it had been a few weeks since they had visited home and if truth were to be told, they were almost as curious as Link was about his strange encounter. They had been children when their Uncle was killed, and tales of his murder had given them nightmares. Link was glad for their company, he found himself smiling freely as they bickered and regaled him with stories of their childhood and culture. He fell asleep surprisingly easy - lulled into a dark, safe slumber as the fire still crackled merrily between them.

The chill of the morning woke Link some hours later, it was early - far too early - but his bladder was complaining and the sound of Gret's snores were deafening. Kino had taken watch, he was still methodically tending to his blades, grey eyes distant as he worked. He snapped to attention as the Hylian rose, groaning as his joints cracked and popped. Link waved in acknowledgement, dragging his stiff limbs into the bushes to relieve himself. When he returned Kino was waiting for him, his weapons were sheathed and in his hands he held a pile of light blue leaves.

"I was thinking-" he started, nervously, "-about your problem."

Link's eyebrows raised in amusement, wondering which problem Kino was talking about required a herbal fix. 

"Your monster is probably immortal - but you've wounded it. These," he waved the leaves in front of him, "are Dreamshade leaves, they're not deadly - but if you heat them, crush them and mix with sap you can make a narcotic so potent that a single nick from a blade or arrow would knock you out for a couple of hours."

"Oh?" Link was impressed, the leaves looked innocent enough. "You think that'll work?"

Kino nodded enthusiastically, "I use to prank Gret all the time, it's pretty strong when mixed with food, but it's much better if you can get it into the blood - your monster bleeds, right?"

His monster - a frowned as he addressed him that way in his head _\- definitely_ bled. He shifted uncomfortable, something about subterfuge didn't sit right with the Champion. He had always been a sword wielding, shield bashing sort of a warrior and the thought of knocking out his opponent seemed like cheating. "It won't kill him?"

"Hard to tell - it might have no effect at all. I've used it on Gret plenty of times, that oaf is still about." Kino shrugged. "It's worth a shot, don't you think? You're both injured, if you go at it again theres a good chance one of you might kill the other. You die - Hyrule's damned. He dies? Not so bad, but then we'll never know if any of those stories are true. Aren't you curious?"   
  
Yes he was.

\-----------

It was slow going, injured as he was. Every nerve from his neck to his finger tips in his left arm burned like fire, as if someone had injected liquid flame into his blood and left him there to burn from the inside out. He hated this feeling, he'd experienced it many times before but usually it was after a job and he was surrounded by darkness, listing in and out of blissful consciousness. Today it was slowing him down, he couldn't bare to run and his usual teleporting trick was out of the window if he was unable to concentrate - besides, he only had enough deku powder for a few more trips. He was banking on stealing a horse, he had passed the stables by noon, making sure to keep completely out of sight as he roughly followed the road. Sheik was tired, fed up and in a foul mood. He had never failed a job so spectacularly as he had done just a day prior - his cheeks burned with shame as he remembered his encounter with Yano, the Yiga's taunts and jibes had infuriating him.

He had one more chance to finish the job, he just needed to get it done as quickly as possible. As much as he hated his chamber, he was beginning to hate being out of it more. The longer that he was exposed to the outside, the more time Sheik had to think. Many of his previous Masters knew how dangerous it was to allow him too long outside. If Sheik could have screamed he would have.

One more chance. Sheik checked over his shoulder _, and it burned,_ pleased to see the oncoming silhouette of a horse and its rider. He pulled a wicked curved dagger from his belt and waited. 


	8. Puppet Mouse

"Wake up puppet-mouse."

Sheik barely registered the words before he felt a white hot pain in his ribs. He grunted as he curled in on himself, still dazed as he sought to protect his ribs from further attack.

"Pathetic. Get up. You're just a big bag of disappointment aren't you? Why would our Master send you on such an important mission when all you do is sleep on the job. _GET UP."_ With those last words Sheik's world accelerated upwards as he was brutally lifted by his hair. He cried in surprise, the sound muffled by the metal bit in his mouth and the iron mask. He was most definitely awake now, and angry.

Although obscured by the customary Yiga mask, it could have only been Yano that stood before him. His companion was no where to be seen.

"Your mark - the one you've yet to kill - has changed track. He's heading east across the field, while you were napping. He's now got two companions, so you'll have to deal with them too. Our Master has said you have one more day - the Hylian better be dead by this time tomorrow or we will finally find out what happens when we remove your head from your body." Sheik stiffened at the words, he knew it was no idle threat.

He hadn't planned on stopping for so long. Once he had stolen the horse he covered good ground, stopping once he neared his targets camp. He had noted his two new companions - cursing as he recognised their clothes as Sheikah. In normal circumstances they wouldn't have posed a threat, but together with the Champion they may have been enough to tip the scale, especially with his shoulder as mangled as it was. That had been the other reason he had been forced to stop. As the day had gone by he was more and more aware of the wound that was rapidly healing - so rapid in fact he could feel the bone and tendons shift underneath the newly healed skin. The sound of bone cracking back into place always made him feel nauseous, more so when it was his own. It was never painless, and alone on the road he had nothing to distract himself from the process.

"I wonder-" Yano continued, thrusting his face uncomfortably close to Sheik's own, "what would happen? Would you writhe about on the ground like a worm. Would it even kill you? How amusing would it be if you just stayed like that. I wonder if Master Kohga would give you to me to play with?"

The thought made Sheik sick, once again he vowed that given the chance he'd kill the tormenting Yiga that stood before him. How dare he taunt him so. 

Oblivious to the dark thoughts darting through Sheik's head, Yano continued; chuckling cruelly as he reached out to touch the smaller man, "... Oh we'd have so much fun little mouse -"

Yano never finished the sentence for he found himself, in the blink of an eye, on his back staring into a pair of angry red irises. A moment later he felt cool steel press into the soft flesh of his throat. At some point he had lost his mask, it was still rocking a few feet away in the dirt. He felt naked and exposed without it, fully aware that the toy he had been playing with just a moment before was a formidable and deadly weight on his chest. Sheik was motionless, his breathing steady and controlled, the knife perfectly poised and eyes intently memorising every feature of the rat beneath him.

"Enough, Sheik."

Yano let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding in relief. The big lout Dumpry had finally appeared, traditionally late as always. In one smooth motion Sheik drew back the blade and stood straight, his eyes still simmering clearly with anger. For once in his life, Yano stayed silent, resisting the urge to throw one more insult at what he considered the abomination.

"Twenty-four hours. That's it. Get the job done." Dumpry barked, grabbing Yano by the wrist disappearing with a loud crack.

Once again they left Sheik on his own - he would have been lying if he said he wasn't shaken. He'd had enough of this mission already.

East.

His horse blinked slowly at him as he approached, nervously pawing the ground with his front hoof.

One more day - and then either way he would have some peace.

\---------

Link and his companions stood at the edge of Hyrule field in sombre silence. The plains looked bright and inviting in the warm noon sunlight, but each of them knew that this particular path was dangerous. There was a reason travellers avoided the field, the littering of guardians and moblins a test to far for most merchants.

"It's not too late to turn back." Link offered his companions, notingara with amusement the uneasy look on both their faces.

Gret shook his head, gulping bravely. "It's the quickest way back to the village. We should be able to cross by nightfall if we ride hard enough."

"Besides," Kino added, "with any luck your number one fan might meet his end here and solve the problem for you."

"No stopping until we cross. If we come across a guardian, just run. No stopping. No checking. No acts of daring. Just run." Link schooled, nudging Riza into an easy trot. She snorted in compliance, rearing her head as they descended onto the plains. They rode together in silence, an feat in itself for the two brothers, tense and watchful. Even the birds held their song, for the first hour their ride was almost silent save the snorting of horses or the occasional bark of a fox. They veered away from the ruins of castle town, the eerie ruins of the castle loomed above them, but it was at least less menacing in the sunshine.

They only had one encounter with a wandering guardian, and thankfully it had already been previously hobbled. Never the less they broke out into a mad gallop as soon as it's eye turned to them. It scuttled behind them for near enough two hundred metres before it stumbled and rolled over, it's deadly beam cutting into the already charred trunk of a tree in two. Kino whooped in victory as they charged ahead towards the ruins of Mabe village.

They stopped to let their horses rest, sheltered safely between the walls of what looked like the old inn. They had made good time, Link guessed it was perhaps three hours past noon. Theoretically if they rode until dusk, they could perhaps cross the river and rest at the Wetlands stable, from there it was only a two day ride to Kakariko. As tempting as that was, they were making the detour for a reason and for the past hour, Link had felt that peculiar sensation that he was being watched again. The hairs on the back of his neck were permanently on end, and he swore it was the exact same feeling he had had in Hebra.

"Ten minutes. Then we head back out."

The sun was warm when they made their camp on the edge of an orchard and spent the rest of the afternoon collecting sweet red apples. They had a hearty dinner cooking, Gret had managed to catch an unsuspecting hare and Kino had collected some roots and berries they could use to make a stew. The fire roared, although its warmth was barely needed in the pleasant evening air.

"This plan seems a little, I don't know, crazy? You really think this will work?" Gret asked as he inspected the edge of his short sword suspiciously. Kino nodded enthusiastically in reply, dousing the head of his arrows with the sticky blue substance that was bubbling in a pot.

"Definitely. It's so crazy, it has to work. Hunting the hunter, just like in the stories. Now pass me that straw."

Link observed the exchange silently, shaking his head at their antics. Gret had been less than pleased to learn that his brother had been the one behind his childhood narcolepsy, and the rest of Kino's idea sounded so farfetched, it was sure to work. He had to admit that it was nice to have the company of the two Sheikah, even if they were hopeless cooks, in his travels. Link hadn't realised how lonely the road was until he was forced to share it.

"It's getting dark. I hope this works." Link sighed, coating the Master sword with one final coat of the dreamshade concoction. It stuck to the blade like glue.

"Just make sure you don't cut yourself." Kino warned, "this stuff is strong. It could bring down a bear. Wash your hands Gret, for Hylia sake _don't lick your fingers!"_

The back of Link's neck prickled once again, sending a shiver down his spine. Come and get me, he thought.

\-----------

Sheik's horse - he had no plans on returning the beast - was frothing from the mouth by the time night fell. He had ran him relentlessly, keenly aware that the stupid champion and his two buffoons had a couple of hours head start. He had had enough. He was prepared to kill all three of them, two less Sheikah in the world was not a bad thing, and be done with this outing. He hoped his Master would be lenient with him, perhaps send him straight to his chamber so that he could sleep undisturbed until needed again. At that thought there was a niggle, a small voice that whispered "if" in the place of until.

_If he was needed again._

There was always the possibility that his door would remain closed for good. There had been periods where Sheik was certain he had been forgotten, chained to the back wall in complete darkness. No water, no food, no light. Just alone with his thoughts and even then, as time passed, they became less and less.

Out here was blinding, confusing and infuriating. The sooner this cursed mission was over, the better. He looked forward to delivering the severed head of the Champion - _Champion of what?! -_ to Master Kohga.

Lost in his gruesome thoughts, Sheik surprised himself when he pulled his horse to a halt. He sat straighter in the saddle, his ears straining for any sound that would have caused him to unconsciously stop. It hadn't been a sound. The unmistakable smell of campfire smoke wafted over the trees and onto the road. A campfire. A camp. Sheik dismounted his horse, leading the dumb beast off the road and into the relative safety of a crop of trees. There, he checked his arsenal. Two short swords, his scythe and only four needles. That was disappointing, but not a hardship. Sheik was confident if it came to it his bare hands would be enough.

He waited until past midnight before venturing into the woods. His foot steps were silent and deliberate on the detritus, ensuring not even a leaf was disturbed as he ventured further and further into the dense trees. The smell of smoke grew stronger, and Sheik's sensitive ears could make out the merry crackle of a camp fire. Soon he could make out the red glow from the flames, casting shadows through the trees haphazardly. He could use those to his advantage, he still wore the blood red and black uniform of the Yiga which would make him nigh on invisible. Quietly, so not to make a sound, he drew a needle from his belt and unsheathed one of his short swords and moved with the flickering shadows so that he could see his mark.

Immediately, he made an assessment of his surrounding. One figure keeping watch, the other two asleep in their sacks around the fire. Yano had been right, the Champion had picked up a few companions. Three horses slept standing near by. His attention focused on the sitting figure by the fire. They were oblivious to Sheik's presence, idly moving firewood around the flames with a long knife. Their back was to him, and he was unable to get a good look at their face but he recognised the hair and clothes as being that of the Hylian he was to kill. In and out - disable, disarm, destroy. He'd work quickly, a needle to the neck to startle and before the mark had time to collect his wits he'd already be dead.

Sheik's heart began to race, as it always did before a kill, that steady pump of adrenaline he had learned to look forward to. He was silent, his steps were perfect, his needle was thrown before he had even finished taking a step out of the tree line. It flew straight to its mark, deadly and silent - and missed.

  
What?

One of the horses had startled, and his target had moved his head at the last second. The needle whizzed, two inches away from where it needed to be, and struck the iron pot hanging above the fire instead. The pot rang like a bell, amplified by the quiet night. The Hylian threw himself to his feet, unsheathing a battle axe strapped to his belt. But he was too slow, Sheik had already launched another needle from his belt and was a third of the way across the clearing. The second needle hit home, burying itself into the Champion's shoulder with a satisfying thud causing him to cry out in pain.

"Oww-ee you bastard that hurts!" The words barely left his mouth before the Hylian found himself tackled through the open flames, the pot clattered upon impact, and thrown to his back six feet away. He didn't put up a fight _, strange,_ only throwing his arms infront of his handsome bearded face in an attempt to protect -

_Wait. Bearded_?

Sheik froze, stunned. Was this the wrong camp? Was he mistaken? How had the Hylian grown such a long beard in the space of a few days?   
  
A thousand questions pounded through his head within a frozen second. Sheik was sure of two things. One, this wasn't the hero. Two, he was being played.   
  
"It's not only Yiga who can create disguises!" Came a voice from behind him. Sheik whirled, the man beneath him forgotten. His mark, the real Champion, was behind him with his bow drawn at the other side of the camp. He was illuminated like a hellfire demon in the firelight. Sheik made to move towards him, but an iron grip grabbed his wrist in a vice hold, he turned to deal with it - his sword descending into what should have been flesh. It never made contact, what felt like the fist of a hinox struck the blade which such force it ripped it from his grip.

By now he was furious, blinded by rage. Sheik plummeted the face of the stupid beast beneath him with his now empty fist, wrenching his arm away so that he could stand.

He felt something graze his shoulder - the fabric of his body suit tore as an arrow from another direction barely missed him. This was an ambush.

He turned his attention back to the Hylian he was tasked to kill, clearing the distance between them with a single powerful step. The Champion stood, unwavering. His eyes a cold icy blue. Sheik remembered them from the last time they met, he'd been lost in them for just a moment back then, but now all he wanted to see was the life drain from them.

Link stood still, his emotions firmly under control as what he could only describe as a mad man was almost upon him. Gret was back to his feet, Kino had dropped from the tree he had hidden in, bow raised ready to take another shot. Link beat him too it, he was wholly consumed by the manic expression of the Yiga before him, madness and hatred clearly displayed in his blood red eyes. Pale blonde hair tied in a braid trailing behind him in and most importantly, sword in hand. The arrow was notched and released within half a breath. Link was proud of his aim. The arrow nicked the crazy Yiga's chest, just below his ribs. A small graze, but hopefully enough.

Sheik stumbled a step, trying to ignore the sharp jab that meant his flesh was pierced. It was inconsequential, it couldn't kill him. Another pain, this time buried into his lower calf. He ignored that too - his mark was so close. One more, this time catching him fully from behind him in the shoulder. The force of it threw him forward and off balance. Damn it. The Champion had dropped his bow and in one swift motion hefted a moblin club from the ground. Another arrow struck grazed his calf. There was only the fire and a matter of ten steps between them. Link had his companions, but Sheik had his fury. The whizzing sound of another arrow blazed in his ear as it flew harmlessly by from behind. The sound of his own blood rushing and the pounding of his heart fuelled him, Sheik felt as if he was detached from his own body, as if he wasn't even there.

  
Flesh hit flesh, Sheik's empty first struck the Champion's jaw in a brutal uppercut as he finally (in reality, the entire encounter had so far only lasted for perhaps thirty short seconds) cleared the gap. He felt as if he was hitting a mountain - by the god's what was this man made of?! He followed through with a jab of his sword - which was effortlessly batted away.   
  
Effortlessly?

He didn't have the time to ponder, before he could recover Sheik felt an almighty blow to the side of his head, his ears rang and his head screamed as the blow sent him flying through the air. How? How had he not dodged that? It was a club - quite literally as subtle as a brick.

It was the strangest sensation, Sheik found himself climbing to his hands and knees before his mind had even caught up with the fact that he had landed. He blearily blinked, noting that his eyes closed for far, far too long. When he opened them again he was still in the same position, although his mind was screaming _get up!_ The Champion of Hyrule, Sheik thought for the first time that he was deserving of that title, walked over to him, the club resting easily on his shoulder.

_Get up!_

With tremendous effort, Sheik pulled himself to his feet. He reached for the arrow in his shoulder, messily pulling it from the flesh. There were three of them again, no - nine of them. Three of three. And they were swaying in the firelight. No, dancing towards him. 

He blinked, a moment of clarity. He had to leave, now.

Link cocked his head, watching the Yiga's internal battle with himself. He seemed unsteady on his feet, a clear sign that the dreamshade was wrecking havoc. To be perfectly honest, Link was astounded he was still standing, he hadn't exactly held back with the club.

"How long does it take to work?" He called over his shoulder.

"He should be snoring by now, to be perfectly honest."

The Yiga turned on his heel towards the treeline and with surprising speed he stumbled into the darkness.

"Oh for the love of Hylia..." Link sighed.

He wasn't hard to follow, as drugged as he was the Yiga trampled through the orchard like a drunk wildebeest. Link and Kino followed, the red clothed figure darting between trees just out of their reach. And then the snapping of twigs suddenly stopped, and to their complete surprise they saw him leap into the high branches of a giant oak and disappear from sight.

"I can't leap that high!" Kino panted, hands on his hips as he caught his breath.

High above them, Sheik clung to the branches, fighting with all his might to stay awake. He felt sick to his stomach, queasy and the edges of his vision flickered frighteningly. And here he was, hiding in a tree. He could still hear the two men below him, and he prayed - although he didn't know to who - that they would give up. Now that he had stopped, he struggled to keep his eyes open, numbly, he realised he could no longer feel his fingers or toes. He closed his eyes, planning on reopening them in a second - but found his eyelids impossibly heavy. _Just one second. Just one second to rest, and then I'll move._ He kept saying to himself, disallowing the feeling of panic that was battering about in his chest.

Back on the ground, Kino and Link argued on the best way to cut the tree down, Link was adamant that the Master sword was not a suitable tool for the task.

In the end, they didn't have to bother. Link had scaled his way to the first branch when something heavy dropped down past him. It landed on the ground with a sickening thud in the space that Kino had stood just a second before. Good sense had enabled him to move at the last second.

Link stood over the figure curiously, it was still awake, panting heavy pained breaths that were muffled behind the iron mask. His back arched, fingers clawing at the ground as even now the Yiga attempted to get back to his feet. The Champion was stunned by the look of sheer terror in those blood red eyes. Those very human, young, blood red eyes.

"Not such a scary Monster now - are you?" Kino laughed as the Yiga writhed one last time before his eyes closed and he finally succumbed to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed this chapter - it's been one I've been looking forward to! Thank you so much to everyone who has left Kudos and comments, they've really given me the confidence to continue. <3


	9. Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - so I managed to write this one quickly. We're progressing <3

Sheik opened his eyes to blissful darkness. For a single moment, he thought he had woken back in his chamber alone and sealed. He could almost convince himself that it had all been a dream, just a figment of his mad imagination. But in his chamber he was never bound so tight and his head was never covered.

Captured then.

If he could have, he would have cursed. _Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn it all_. He berated himself silently. How? In all of the countless years he'd been used, never once had he failed so spectacularly. And now he was trussed up like a holiday turkey. To the best of his ability, Sheik took in his surroundings. Hands bound, in front. Workable. Separate binding around his midriff and another around his chest tying him to what felt like a tree. Again, workable. Feet unbound. Sloppy. Injuries? His shoulder throbbed, his old wound had pretty much finished healing, however he could feel that the arrow wound was still untreated. Inconvenient, but nothing he couldn't work around. His leg hurt like hell as well, a slow burning in his calf and his knee was either twisted or dislocated. Again, inconvenient _. Damn this inconvenience!_

He slowed his breathing, straining his ears to listen to his surrounding. He was sure it was still night-time, the air was cool and quiet. He could hear the quiet murmur of people talking which their back to him, and the faint, muffled crackle of a camp fire. He shifted his sore knee to assess the damage, and the talking stopped.

"I thought you said he should be out for hours? It's barely been one."

"Is he definitely awake?"

"I think so."

"Go check, Kino."

"What?! No! You go you big oaf!"

"I'm injured."

"Oh boo-hoo -"

"Stop it, you two. Kino - go and check while I sort this out."

Great. He had been captured by imbeciles. How embarrassing. Sheik switched off as they continued to argue, keeping his head lowered as if still asleep. He closed his eyes, steadying his heart beat in wait. He could hear the crunch of leaves as one of the three approached. He waited. Closer. Closer. Only a few inches away, a faint whoosh of air as a hand reached towards the top of his head the remove the cover. He kept his eyes closed, head perfectly bowed. He could feel the heat from the other mans chest, just inches away from his bound wrists. Perfect.

"Kino, no - wait - "

_Too late._ As soon as the hood was removed Sheik closed the inch gap which his fists, grunting as the rope pulled painfully tight into his forearms. A necessary pain. He grabbed the loose shirt and pulled the startled figure forward. In another smooth motion he raised his head and head butted him square in the face. He felt his own nose crunch painfully, but the howls of pain from the other man was worth it, especially as he crumpled in pain, holding his bloody nose in his hands. There. The idiot's knife.

He was most of the way through cutting the rope that bound his wrists before the other two men gathered their wits. The tall, bearded one was on him, trying to wrestle the blade from Sheik's closed fists. Sheik lifted his legs into the air and connected solidly with his gut, sending the larger man flying backwards with a cry.

Link blinked in disbelief, wondering if what he was seeing was truly real. Kino rolled around in the foliage, holding his bleeding nose and Gret lay, winded, five metres away groaning in the effort it was taking him to try and get back to his feet. Meanwhile, the assassin, who he had clearly not given enough credit to, was sawing through his binds with his stolen knife. Link picked up the moblin club he had earlier discarded and launched it towards the menace - it cracked into the hand holding the knife, thankfully causing it to bounce harmlessly away.

Sheik still struggled, the rope was hardly severed but it was now slightly loose. Who in their right mind carried _a blunt knife._ A shadow fell over him as the Champion leaned forward, scratching the back of his neck. Sheik stopped struggling, fighting to control his breathing. He was mad, furiously so.

"Yeah - we're going to have to sort this out. Look what do you did to poor Kino, he's got a girl at home who was looking forward to seeing him without two black eyes." Sheik blinked, wondering if the blonde man before him expected him to care. "So - sorry but - good night." Link picked up the moblin club once again and with a mighty swing Sheik was once again out.

When he woke again, his head was no longer covered, but it felt as if someone had crushed his skull between the fists of a Goron. As he woke, and the world swam in and out of focus, he couldn't help but groan, the sound muffled and restricted by his mask that it sounded more like a cat's mewl. Once his head almost cleared, he took stock of his surroundings. They had retied him. He was now stood, his arms stretched impossibly around the tree behind him. The level of movement was none, he could barely breath without the bindings tightening around his chest.

It was dawn, or just before. The sky was still an inky blue but the air was filled with the promise of bird song. Sheik was aware he was being watched. The Champion sat across the clearing before him, methodically cleaning a blade. It was clear that his attention was on Sheik, however, his blue eyes were fixed. Link raised his head, sheathing his blade. He sat back, cocking his head curiously before sighing and climbing to his feet.

Sheik couldn't help but flinch as the Champion reached out towards his face. Link snapped his hand back, unsure, before prodding at a particularly tender spot on Sheik's forehead. 

"Sorry about that." Link apologised, drawing his hand back, "had to get you to stop before you killed one of them." He shuffled closer. "But this -" without asking he pulled back a bit of the tattered red body suit away from Sheik's shoulder, pushing his warm hand against the bruised flesh. Sheik hissed, as much from pain as from being startled by the sudden touch. "This is surprising. I swear my sword went right through here, I felt every crunch and snap as it did. And here you are, with some swelling and a bruise. You Yiga must have some healers."

Link stepped back, hands on his hips and his face thoughtful. "So here's how this is going to go. You're coming with us, and one way or another we'll get answers. Any complaints?" he laughed heartily, turning back to the dishevelled camp.

Sheik glared as hard as he could, wishing he had the power to burst the overly confident, bastard of a Champion into flames.

Link ignored the burning feeling of being watched, knowing full well he had infuriated what seemed to be a hot headed guy. Served him right, considering all the trouble he had caused.

Sheik watched as the two Sheikah woke some time later and stumbled about packing up their camp. He was amused to see the taller and skinnier of the two sporting a pair of fantastic black eyes. They all sat down for breakfast, which was turning out to be a silent, uncomfortable affair. Good.

They all existed in an awkward impasse for almost half an hour, three of them silently sat while the other stood gracelessly hitched to a tree. Finally, after what felt like forever, Link rose - picking up a small bowl that sat unobtrusively out of the way behind him. He made his way back over to the tree, almost apologetic. Sheik glared suspiciously.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but you put up too much of a fight when you're awake, and I don't trust you to come quietly." Kino followed, standing close to the Hero's side. "I'm going to take that off." Link pointed to the iron mask that still sat snug against the Yiga's face. "And you're going to eat a bit of this." He waved the bowl beneath Sheik's chin.

Link was expecting a fight, he certainly wasn't expecting compliance. Kino stood beside him, tense and poised, which gave Link a little comfort. He'd have hated to be in this situation himself, taking prisoners wasn't his forte, especially not angry little Yiga spitfires. As if he was reaching towards a skittish foal, Link reached out to the top of his prisoner's head. He noted that the pale blonde hair was dirty, and although braided out of the way, unkempt. There were three main, fine chain straps. Two from the side that met at the back just at the base of the skull, and one thinner vertical one that started above the nose and travelled over the top of his skull that joined them. They were tight, Link doubted he could get his fingers beneath any of them, but most importantly, he was shocked to find, they were locked. Link froze at the revelation, he'd had to pull the Yiga's head forward to inspect the catch. He had expected to find a buckle, maybe a latch to release the mask. Surely it was only for show? But no, a damned lock.

He stepped back, as if burned.

"You can't take that off - can you?" He asked in disbelief. His voice was hollow, his mind whirring faster than he could make sense of the thoughts.

Sheik didn't, couldn't, reply. It was answer enough.

A look of horror flitted across the Champion's face, but only briefly, he schooled it quickly into an impassive expression. "You've been tracking us for days. Have you worn it this whole time?"

Kino laughed nervously, "We told you - it's not human."

Link stood silently for a moment, bringing his hand to his chin as he thought deeply. The Yiga had been tracking him for days, if he had worn that mask all that time - how did he eat and properly drink? How was he still standing?

"Okay." He finally said, straightening his back to stand tall. His voice was light, but his face was still deadly serious. "I'm going to get that off of you."

\---------

Gret had pleaded with Link to reconsider _. He'll eat us whole, we'll be sucked into a void._ He'd whispered.

The three of them had pulled Sheik down carefully - ensuring his limbs were still restrained as they did so. He was now knelt on the ground in front of the fire, hands and feet still bound behind him, oddly compliant. Truth be told, he was curious. His Masters had always boasted only their key would open the lock, like some sort of sick chastity device, but now Sheik wondered if it had been an empty boast. Besides, he was already dead - his mission failed - captured, Yano was out for his blood and he was sure if he arrived back to the Yiga hideout empty handed he would never see the light of day again. So, he thought, it was worth giving the Hylian Champion a shot. The worst that could happen was he would die, the best that could happen was that he would be free.

Link convinced Kino to attempt to pick the lock first, he didn't question how his mercenary companion knew how to pick a lock. Three picks broke before he gave up in frustration.

"I can't pick it. It's a crazy one, I've never seen a lock like it." He'd hissed, an hour later.

  
Gret tried next, he used his serrated knife to try and cut through the fine chain bands, however all that transpired was the blunting of his favourite blade.

It was a stroke of pure genius that led Link to think of his Sheikah slate. At first he tried his usual, the brute force approach. He tried to snap the lock by pulling two of the bands in opposite directions, they have very little give and after a few minutes a pained cry from the Yiga forced him to stop. Attempt two involved a more intricate approach, with Kino's help, Link set about using magnesis on only the inside of the lock. He had never tried to move something so small before, and he sat for well over an hour engrossed in the slate while his two companions sat back and left him to it.

Sheik was bored and fed up by midmorning, he was already scheming his next escape. He'd be compliant for a while, acting thankful that the three Samaritans had at least tried to free him from his hellish prison. He'd have to take out the Champion first, he was by far the strongest and most coherent. He was lost in a vivid fantasy in which his sword was sunken deep into an artery when he heard an audible click.

A seemingly deafening click. One he hadn't heard in so very long.

"A-ha." Link said softly, pulling away the bands. They were a little reluctant to release from the mechanism, but he teased them out quickly. The mask didn't fall away immediately, so Link jumped back to his feet and scooted around to the front of his captive. The Yiga looked stunned, his eyes wide and bewildered. The lost expression made Link chuckle as he pulled away the iron contraption. It came away, bringing with it a dollop of spit and blood. Beneath the mask, the Yiga's face was pretty bruised, lips pale and cracked and there was a mass of dried blood underneath his nose. In short, he looked a mess. But at least now he looked human, rather than a menacing masked madman of death.

"Better?" Link asked, frowning as he inspected the inside of the mask. A flat metal bit, similar to what some unruly horses were forced to wear, protruded into where the mouth would rest. Even worse, a long metal spine which was dark was blood jutted vertically down, effectively pinning the tongue. It was barbaric.

Sheik sagged into himself, resting heavily on his calves, seeming to collapse as far as his body would allow. He still looked shell-shocked, eyes trained onto the mask as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. After all this time - that was it. Some simpleton he had only just met, and almost murdered, had managed to do what Sheik had been unable to do for countless years.

And now what? What did the Champion want?

Sheik had no answers as of yet, he was distracted from his thoughts as the Champion knelt once again before him and offered a cup of cool, fresh water to his lips.

Sheik didn't drink at first. He held the cold liquid in his mouth, confused and unable to swallow. Could he even remember how to swallow, or was that lost to him? As the water began to taste of blood, he found his body knew the answer and he emptied his mouth in one large gulp. It made him gag and cough in surprise. He was offered another drink, which he drank easier. The Champion smiled indulgently, and Sheik decided then that he still hated him - for now.  
  
"This is just broth." Link said, holding another cup to his mouth. It was hot and salty, and the smell initially made Sheik nauseous. Link was insistent, tipping the hot broth into the Yiga's mouth. Sheik swallowed readily, convinced that it was the most wonderful thing he could remember tasting. The cup was empty far too soon, and no more was offered.

A little disappointed, Sheik raised his eyes to meet those of the three men who had bested him. His cheeks burned with shame as he noted the looks of vacant pity in their eyes. In fact, the more he thought of it - it wasn't only his cheeks which burned with shame, his whole face and neck burned hot and his fingers began to tingle and lose sensation. Suddenly his eyelids were heavy. This time he didn't bother to fight it, vaguely aware of the fact he was pitching to the side and his face hit the cool ground. And then, blissfully, he felt nothing. 


	10. Stables

There were three things apparent when Sheik next awoke. One: He was still trussed. Two: He was staring at the ground from the back of a trotting horse. Three: He was about to vomit.

"Urghhh," he cried, the jostling movement of the beast beneath him churned his stomach like butter. Worse, there was literally nothing he could do. He could taste the rancid acid at the back of his throat, and his face was hot and wet with perspiration. He heaved weakly, a mouthful of bile splashing messily onto the ground below. It wasn't pleasant.

"Woah - stop!" The Champion pulled back on the reigns, but the motion made Sheik heave again, this time his vomit the colour of watered mud. He felt hands grabbing him, and he was relieved to find himself lowered to the ground and balanced on his knees. His stomach muscles hurt, he was unsure whether it was due to the bumpy ride, the concoction he had drank that morning, or a combination of both. He didn't have time to consider, his eyes widened again as he hunched over himself again and emptied the remains of his stomach onto the road. He sat for a moment, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Vomiting for a foreign, nasty experience and he would be quite happy to never experience it again.

"Finished?" A kind voice asked. Sheik snapped to reality turning his head upwards and meeting the eyes of the Hylian champion, who also happened to be holding his hair out of his face. He didn't answer, turning his focus back to the road as he spat a wad of vile spittle onto the ground. Disgusting. It felt strange, to have a full range of movement in his jaw, to be able to swallow freely and move his tongue without restriction.

A flask appeared at his lips, the Hero was crouched before him, smiling indulgently and pushing a small hip flask into his face. Sheik wasn't going to fall for that again. He pursed his lips, turning away from the offered vessel.

"It's just water. I promise. To wash out your mouth." Link insistently thrust it into the Yiga's face again.

"Do you want me to hold his mouth open while you pour it in?" Kino asked, trying to be helpful. Link's face paled, and he shook his head violently in reply.

"No need. Come on - we're wasting time. Stop being a stubborn shit and take a damned drink!" Link hadn't meant to bark out the last sentence, but it seemed to work, and the Yiga opened his mouth and accepted the water. "Alright - good. I'm going to lift you onto my horse, and you're going to behave. We've already shown you you can't best us - so don't even bother. Just be a good Yiga and sit quietly."

Sheik was mildly insulted, his eyes narrowed in disdain. Still - he sat silently as the Hero untied his ankles and knees. If Sheik took some satisfaction in playing a dead weight as Link hoisted him onto the horse, he wouldn't admit it.

Link swung back onto Riza, behind his Yiga prisoner, spurring his mare on. They had tied him well, his hands secured behind his back, hand to elbow. Truth be told, he was a little unsure about keeping him prisoner but Kino had reasoned with him. Kakariko was the best place for him, Lady Impa would know what to do. The most important thing was that the Yiga clan didn't get him back. A valuable asset, Gret had said.

Bound as he was in the daylight, dirty hair and tattered suit, the Yiga didn't look like much of an asset. And really, as Link took the chance to observe him now, he was a bit on the skinny runt side. Sure, he was fast and agile, he'd proven than, but really there wasn't much to him. A sharp collar bone jutted out clearly, his ribs were easily identified and Link was sure that if he had wanted to, he could have made a loop around the Yiga's wrists. Whatever prized asset he was, he wasn't well looked after.

They were half a days ride from the Wetland stables, they planned to restock and supply and if they could, spend the night. Link looked forward to a hot bath, and there was a stable maid he had become very friendly with during his last visit. He hoped she was still there.

\--------

Kino whooped in delight as the unmistakable horse shaped roof came into view. "Finally!" He shouted, spurring his horse on. Link laughed and did the same, jostling awake his prisoner who had slumped in the saddle an hour before, his back pressed into the Hero's warm chest.

  
They left the horses in the yard, handing over the reigns to two small stable boys who enthusiastically greeted them. Sheik limped as he walked, well aware of the firm hand on his back that pushed him towards the stable. Sheik usually stayed away from stables, unless he was instructed to assassinate a target there, of course. He tended to stay away from people in general, their jovial chatter was imbecilic and confusing to him. Who cared about the weather, anyway?

"We're looking for a private room, please, if you will, Lawdon." The Champion requested at the counter. Initially, the stable master had seemed delighted to see them - but as his gaze cast down to Sheik, whose own gaze was dark and menacing once again, his smile fell.

"I'm sorry Master Link, you three can of course have a room - but I have a policy barring **them** from my inn. Bad for business, you see." Lawdon waved towards the Yiga, shaking his head sadly.

"Ah." Link replied. Sheik felt the hand clench tighter into his back. "That's unfortunate."

In the end, they negotiated the use of the stable and a hot drawn bath each. It was less than ideal, Link had been looking forward to the warm embrace that a stable inn, and its maidens, offered.

"We'll watch it, you go and clean up first." Gret offered, securing the Yiga as best he could. He had manhandled the strangely compliant prisoner to a lantern post, pushing him onto his backside so that he could retie his hands behind his back. Truth be told, he was a little disappointed the Yiga hadn't put up more of a fight, Gret was still upset that he had been beaten not just once, but twice. But Sheik hadn't tried to escape, hadn't even struggled as they unbound and rebound him. Gret thought he looked despondent, a little lost and overwhelmed.

Sheik was left with the Hero's companions, although he didn't offer much in the way of company. He was still at a loss; never in his wildest dreams did he envision a scenario where he was effectively unbound. He'd always envisioned he'd be free in the world as some reward for good work, as some treat. Perhaps the fabled Ganon his clan worshipped would free him himself. Of course, there had been times his mask had been removed, although it was always as a reward for his master rather than for him. Sheik shuddered at the thought, forcing his mind to divert from that disgusting train of thought.

Lost in his thoughts, Sheik suddenly realised he was alone. Gret and Kino were gone, the immediate vicinity, other than the two stable boys, was empty. Immediately, he tried to loosen his bonds - and then stopped. What was the point? Where would he even go? His shoulders sagged in defeat. It was at this point the two stable boys took an interest in him.

Obviously finished with their chores, they bounded over - making sure to stand just out of kicking range.

"Ee-up! This one's all tied about!" The smaller of the two laughed, scooting to the side of Sheik's face to thrust his nose obnoxiously close. Sheik turned his head away, pointedly attempting to ignore the cretins.

"Oo-ooh. Why's that then? Is it cos he's one them Yeegas ninjas folk." Sheik decided at that moment that he detested children. The taller, and obviously eldest, of the two reached out - grabbing the end of Sheik's pointed ear and pulling hard. Seeing red, he retaliated, bucking as far as he could in the direction of the little brat.

It only made them laugh, and they spent nearly a fill minute dancing around the bound Yiga, poking and prodding him as he sat, his chin to his chest and eyes closed in a futile attempt to ignore them.

"He can't even fight back!" They laughed, carrying out their fun. They soon grew bored once they realised they were getting no more of a reaction.

"I'm hungry, let's see if Ma has dinner ready."

"Hold on -" Sheik heard movement behind him and cracked one eye open curiously. He heard what sounded like a trickle of water, and then to his horror he felt something hot and wet splash against his shoulder and back. The smaller child laughed as he joined in, and Sheik sat, shell-shocked as both boys used him as a watering pole. His cheeks reddened with shame as the two boys screamed with laughter.

This was what he was reduced to.

"Hey! Get away from there you little shits!" A voice yelled across the yard. Sheik raised his eyes and was met with the startling sight of the Hylian Champion running towards him wearing only his under shorts and a towel in his hand. The two children scarpered, barely having time to tuck themselves away before the Champion was upon them, whipping them with the edge of a towel. He caught the backside of the older of the two boys, who yelled in pain as he scampered away.

"What - why - where are the other two? Why the hell did they leave you alone?" Link shouted in frustration. He stood for a moment, furious - before his anger melted away as suddenly as it had manifested. His attention snapped to the tied up prisoner. "Aw... Shit! I'm sorry. You weren't meant to be left alone. I'll kill them."

_Not before I do._ Sheik replied silently. But it was half hearted, he felt half hearted.

"Jeez, that's foul. Who brings their kids up like that? Just pissin' about over people, worse than animals." Sheik felt the Champion behind him, and the rope that bound his hands fell away. He let them drop to his side, watching the Hero curiously. Link stood back, unsure of what to do.

"Link? What are you doing here?"

Link whirred towards the voice, his heart leaping in fright. The good Doctor stood, her hands firmly on her hips in displeasure.

"Morag -"

"Doctor Morag."

"Doctor - I - erm - well -"

"Tell me Link, is this man drunk?" She pointed directly in Sheik's face, who was taken aback and flinched away.

"What - no he's-"

"Is he infirm?"

"No- why-"

"Well which is it? By the smell I would say drunk, but that doesn't answer as to why you have him tied to a post."

"Doctor - please. Stop. It wasn't his fault -"

"Incontinence then."

"NO. At least I don't think so. Look - can you just help me? Those loggerheads you landed me with have disappeared when I need them."

Sheik kept his head bowed, avoiding any eye contact as he allowed them to clean him up. They stripped him of his body suit, which was a tattered mess anyway. Link blushed bright red as they worked, coughing awkwardly as the Doctor helped cut away the red garment. He was mortified to realise that that had been all the Yiga was wearing, although he didn't seem in the least bit embarrassed. Morag tutted, muttering under her breath before she snapped to Link to get a grip and give her a hand.   
  
Link pushed Sheik's head forward as they emptied two buckets of cold water over his head and back. Sheik gasped from the cold, his thin body shivering in the cool air. Link noted his back was pocked with blemishes and scars, the most prominent of which was an angry red mark square in his shoulder. Link recognised it as his own handiwork, he had seen the matching scar on the other side. Naked and cold, scars were the least of Sheik's worries. The heavy weight of a towel fell over his shoulders, and he felt two warm hands underneath his armpits hoist him to his feet.

"Put him back down! That knee is dislocated!" Morag yelled, cuffing the Champion across the ear with the back of her hand. He yelped and let go, causing Sheik to sway unsteadily as he was unexpectedly released. He was aware his knee was out, he just hadn't had the chance to deal with it. With his hands free, Sheik bent over and placed them on either side of his dislocated knee cap. Morag had almost screeched "Stop!" by the time he twisted the offending knee back into place with a sickening crunch. Much better.

Link provided simple travelling clothes from his bags for Sheik to wear, a plain white tunic and a pair of brown pants. They were too big, but they were warm and more importantly they were clean. Morag left to find them all something to eat, leaving Link and his prisoner alone.

Inelegantly, Link rubbed the back of his neck - unusually shy in the Yiga's presence. "Do you never talk?"

_Not for you._

"You haven't said a word since yesterday. I know before that you couldn't - but I don't even know your name." He stopped scratching, picking up a length of the discarded rope from the ground. "And it's still two day's ride from where we're going - so it might be easier if I have something to call you by." He motioned for Sheik to sit in front of a new post, one that was dry. Sheik rolled his eyes as he complied. "What's the deal with the whole silent masked assassin thing anyway? I know the Yiga are dramatic, but that's a bit far, even for you lot."

_Indeed._

Sheik grunted as Link tightened the rope around his midriff.

It was at this point Morag returned, followed closely by two very sheepish Sheikah. They apologised to Link profusely, Kino almost comically bowing low to the ground.

"Oh shut up you two!" Barked the doctor, pushing the grovelling Sheikah over with her booted foot.

They had made their way over to the inn to investigate their dinner and had been waylaid with the affections of the stable maid, a beautiful maiden who had entrapped the brothers with her bountiful curves and flirtatious manner. They had been entranced by her smile and wit, until the good Doctor had found them.

They bashfully retold the tale, both of them sporting reddened, pinched ears, over dinner. Sheik listened with very little interest, his focus was on the bowl in his hands (Link had left them free for now) of steaming hot rice. He found himself unusually shy, the wooden spoon uncomfortable and foreign in his hand. He ate as slowly as he could stand, his motions messy and childish, scooping uneven chunks onto the spoon with his fingers when he thought the others weren't looking. He couldn't understand why he even cared. As soon as he could make a break for it -

-and his train of thought ended there. What exactly would he do? Could he go back to his clan unsuccessful? Did he even need to go back - there was nothing enticing him there. But there was something about being a traitor that sat ill in his stomach. His task was to kill the Champion of Hyrule, or else. Or else what?

The bowl was almost empty when he felt full enough to burst. His stomach was full and heavy, and he was feeling impossibly tired. He heard a clatter, and then realised the bowl had toppled out of his hands, they too felt heavy and numb. He shook his head violently, his still damp hair whipping from side to side. The Champion was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Damn them. Damn them to hell.

He fought as hard as he could to keep his eyes open, but eventually he lost the battle and slumped backwards against the post, held up only by the rope around his chest.

"By Goddess Kino, how much did you give him?" Link asked, climbing to his feet. He took the opportunity to secure the sleeping man, tying his hands behind him and securing his shoulders so that he sat upright.

He stood back to admire his handiwork, satisfied that the binds would hold.

"That's enough excitement for one night." He yawned, settling down by the fire. Morag made her exit, giving each of them a stern warning to behave themselves.

The stable wasn't as luxurious as the inn, but it was dry and warm and tonight, Link thought, the company was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any excuse to get Sheik nekkid.


	11. Crock of S***

* * *

Morag waited for them outside of the stable gates the next morning to say her good byes. The grass was still dewy and cold, the sun still low in the east. Link led the horses around the corner, followed closely by his own personal Yiga.

Sheik looked less menacing without his usual red garb and angry iron mask. They had forgone all but the hand binds, allowing him to walk, albeit unsteadily, on his own two feet. He was sticking close to the Hero, casting untrusting looks to the two Sheikah brothers.

Link felt a little guilty, early that morning when his prisoner had awoke he looked less than rested, and positively sick. He'd dry retched for a full minute as the Hero had quickly tried to unbind him, less he choke. When he had offered the Yiga some water, it had been batted away.

"I'm sorry, I promise there's nothing in it this time." He'd pleaded. They had laced the Yiga's dinner with the last of their dreamshade, Kino had assured them it was perfectly safe to use for a prolonged period, although he later admitted he hadn't exactly tested it for himself.

Sheik had finally accepted a sip of water, but only because his throat was painfully dry and he had seen them draw a fresh bucket directly from the well. He had declined breakfast.

Next to Morag stood the stable master, he looked unusually sheepish, scraping dirt back and forth with his foot and coughing uncomfortably as they approached.

"Good morning." Link greeted in his usual good natured manner. The Stable master's face grew red and hot, and he mumbled a greeting inaudibly beneath his breath.

Morag kicked him sharply in the shins. "What he meant to say was 'Good morning - I'm sorry you met my savage children.'" She snapped, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Ah - yes!" Lawdon said, his voice high as he flinched from the doctor's stern gaze. "I heard what my boys did to your.... Friend." He licked his lips uncertainly, pausing, "and I can't express how sorry I am about their behaviour. Is there anyway I can prove how sorry I am, Master Link?"

Link scratched his chin in thought, glancing behind him to where his Yiga stood. He was cowed in on himself, deliberately not meeting the Champion's gaze.

The charade continued for a few painful minutes, and in the end Lawdon was one hundred and fifty rupees poorer. Morag made them promise to be careful, and then bid them goodbye as they went their separate ways.

Sheik found himself once again straddled in front of the Champion, his hand's still tied firmly behind his back. He listened absent minded as the others talked, but his thoughts was elsewhere. Kakariko. He hated how even the name of the village stirred something terrifying for him. In the scattered fragments of his early memories, whatever was left of them, he knew he hated that place, although he couldn't remember why. And here he was, being delivered, packed and parcelled to the village gates. He doubted they would be thrilled to see him, he was the reason, after all, that many of the residents were orphaned or widowed or both. Orders were orders.

And what were his orders now? Still kill the Hylian Champion? It was clear he was evenly matched, and with his two idiot companions he was outmatched for now. Soon. Probably. Truthfully, the notion of killing them in cold blood was lessening as the days passed. The thing that had bound him to his Master was gone, there was no more promises of keys and freedom to entice him back to the hideout. But still. It was all he knew.

The horse beneath him jostled and surged forward with a burst of speed, catching Sheik by surprise. Link whooped in excitement behind him, and to Sheik's absolute horror he felt the Champion's arm snake around his waist and anchor him tight against his hips. Sheik chanced a look behind him, rolling his eyes as he recognised the bumbling shapes of bokoblins on their fat, ineffective ponies. Sheik's stomach lurched as he pitched to the side, Link pulling hard on the reigns of his mount and spinning in a tight u-turn to charge back towards the chasing mob. Link tightened his grip over Sheik's chest, the strong hands pushed him so that his back was flush with the Hero's chest, and he could feel every excited flutter of the Champion's heartbeat through his tunic.

As usual, the band of bokoblins were unorganised, dull, and of little challenge, but Link, Kino and Gret at least tried to enjoy themselves as they herded the dim-witted little monsters into a tight huddle and charged them one by one. It broke up an otherwise dull ride nicely, and Gret was pleased at the little pile of monster parts he collected afterwards.

Link, face still flushed red with adrenaline, found himself still holding the Yiga tightly to his chest with his right hand, his left still wielding a heavy javelin. Almost reluctantly, he loosed his hold, allowing the Yiga to breath freely again. He thought about apologising, but the Yiga was pointedly not looking at him again, scooting forward as much as he could without purchase on the saddle so that he didn't nestle so close to the Hero's, well, groin. Unashamed, Link grinned, ignoring what ever petty embarrassment the other man felt. Served him right for trying to murder him.

\-------

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon passed peacefully. Gret started singing an old Sheikah ballad, Kino told wild stories about his adventures and Link laughed along to pass the time.

  
Twilight was decending by the time they stopped. They were at the base of the Sahasra slopes. These were normally unpassable, and usually Link would travel further south to pass through he duelling peaks to reach Kakariko, but the Sheikah with him assured him there was another way - a well worn but hidden pass that would allow them to descend the slope in the morning.

Once again, they stopped to make camp, picking a well sheltered spot surrounded by a thick corpse of trees. Link unmounted first, leaving the Yiga to sit for a while as he unpacked. Discretely, Sheik slid back in the saddle, keeping the trio in his sight. He kicked the mare with his heels, urging her to move. She turned her head to him, giving him the dirtiest look he had ever received from a dumb beast, snorted, and then lowered her head to munch on the green grass at her feet. He heard the Champion laugh from behind him, and his face grew red in annoyance.

"Nice try." Link chuckled. None too gently, he grabbed the Yiga by his waist and pulled him from the saddle. "Now I'll be nice tonight. Pick a tree." He pointed to a few candidates that surrounded the camp, all as tall and imposing as each other. Sheik looked at him in disbelief, his red eyes narrowed, insulted. Link nodded, mirth still evident in his cool blue eyes. "I know, I know. It's a hard one. Literally. They're all hard ones. I tried to find one with an inbuilt cushion but no luck, I'm afraid."

Sheik didn't enjoy being mocked, he shook the hand on his shoulder away roughly and pulled away, making his way over to the nearest tree pointedly and sat down at its roots.

"That's the spirit!" Link mused, closing the distance between them. Once again, he was secured, although they were lenient this time - securing only his wrists behind the tree. Sheik told himself that they were just being lazy, refusing to admit there were no longer seeing him as much of a threat. Sure he was practically naked, all his weapons had been stripped, he was dressed like a common traveller and at this point in time he had no where to go. He sighed quietly, stretching his legs out in front of him to ease out the tired muscles. Might as well make himself comfortable.

Kino had a fire going by the time Link arrived back with dinner. He had been incredibly lucky and had downed a young buck who had been quietly grazing amongst the trees. As darkness descended over the camp, the smell of searing steak washed over the clearing. Gret had started singing merrily again, his deep baritone reverberating through the trees. Eventually, the singing was halted as Kino punched his brother squarely in the gut. Link was thankful, although he enjoyed the occasional singalong, singing was not one of Gret's greatest talents. Sheik was thankful also, as trapped as he was he detested the feeling of his sensitive ears bleeding. He cracked one eye open once the awful song stopped, his pointed ears twitching in relief.

In the silence, Sheik's ears twitched again. Something was wrong, and in an instant he realised they were not alone.

Out of the corner of his eye, Link saw the bound Yiga stiffen, eyes narrowed as if listening to some unknown sound. It caused him to reach for his sword, which was sat some ways away with his pack.

It was the stupid laughter that gave them away - that incessant giggle and crack that signalled the arrival of the crimson clad nuisances. Link would have sighed if he hadn't been struck so fiercely to the chest he was sent rolling head over heels. He stopped himself, taking a second to orient himself and take in the situation. There were two of them. One was heading straight for him, sickle poised to dislodge his head from his shoulders. The other one was entertaining Kino, who was being herded out of the clearing and into the thick of the trees.

The clash of metal on metal was deafening, and Link came face to face with the white, inverted eye mask he had come to loath. There was no time to ponder between parries, Link felt himself being pushed further and further back, the speed of the onslaught causing him to consider his feet carefully in case he tripped. He used a stumble to his advantage, dropping to the ground and rolling away as the Yiga sailed harmlessly over the top of him. He disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and Link took that moment to observe his surroundings once again. Kino had reappeared, Gret was no where to be seen, his prisoner was still where he had left him and that incessant laughter started to echo through the camp again.

An arrow whizzed by Link's ear, the sound causing him to flinch away in surprise. The larger of the two Yiga appeared once again - perched high in a tree, already lifting another arrow to the string as Link spied him. An almighty roar stopped him, Gret appeared, impossibly high in the branches, and collided with the surprised Yiga. As they fell, none of them were more surprised than Gret - who had clearly not expected his plan to play out as it did. Both of them tumbled to the ground, dropping twenty feet to the ground like two stones.

There wasn't time to help, Link turned just in time to deflect a blow aimed for his head. Another cloud of smoke. He wished these Yiga bastards would just fight fair.

He almost laughed at himself, there was no such thing as a fair fight. Heeding his own advice, he rammed his shoulder into the laughing Yiga's stomach the next time he appeared. Seriously, what was with the chuckles?!

Gret was on his feet again, but so was his opponent - as winded as he was he was proving no match. Link nodded to Kino, the desperation in his eyes to help his brother evident _. Go_ he mouthed, twisting his weapon in the palm of his hand. Alone, he turned to the Yiga again - this time he was six feet in the air, bow drawn. The arrow was easily deflected, and Link answered back with one of his own. He disappeared again in a cloud of laughter, and Link _was pissed_ and sick of playing games with clowns. The Yiga appeared behind him, weapon drawn and taunting him with an open hand.

Link didn't manage to get close. He felt a weight push him aside unexpectedly and with such force he was thrown to his knees, his sword clattering out of his grip. He recovered quickly, scanning for his attacker.

His jaw dropped, his very own Yiga prisoner was somehow, inexplicitly, standing between him and the new Chuckles. Of course. They had come to free one of their own. He should have just killed him when he had the chance. Now they were evenly numbered, and possibly now outmatched. There was a sharp, unjustified sense of betrayal as his prisoner took a step towards the assailant. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was more than a little disappointed as the new Yiga lowered his weapons slightly, but not fully. They seemed to stare each other down for what felt like a lifetime, although it was only a moment, and in that moment Link realised that his Yiga was armed. Somehow, in the fray he had picked up the knife Link had used to skin and prepare their meal. Link pushed himself to his feet, raising his reclaimed weapon in defence, fully expecting both of them to turn on him.

He didn't expect his Yiga prisoner to fly towards the other red clad warrior and disarm him, apparently neither had chuckles expected it - if the cry of surprise was anything to go by. Link watched as the plain clothed man whaled on the crimson assassin with such speed and fury, that his opponent didn't stand a chance. Soon he was disarmed, his sickle flying ten feet into the air before falling to the ground with a dull thump. And then he was on his back, his white mask askew, hands raised in begging yield.

Link's Yiga knelt calmly on his chest, the knife poised within a few inches of the jugular.

"Stop - what are you doing?!" Link heard the Yiga cry. The blonde haired warrior cocked his head, the way a dog does when it hears something unusual.

"I told you I would kill you." Link heard, realising his silent prisoner had finally spoken. It was a deep voice, smooth and clear - almost sing-song. Link realised he liked it.

"What?!" Screamed the man on the ground, struggling futilely. "No, you didn't - Sheik - you're one of us. What would our Master say!? Sheik - no - you didn't - no-" his cried petered off into a horrible, drowning gargle as Link's Yiga, _Sheik,_ had dragged the knife swiftly across his throat. A red line bloomed, and the Yiga convulsed on the ground until he shuddered and stopped.

"Guess you couldn't hear me." Sheik said to noone in particular, wiping the bloody knife on the dead Yiga's body suit and he climbed up from the still warm corpse. He turned to his audience, face impassive as if daring Link to comment. Link stayed silent, barely flinching as Sheik launched the knife he was holding into the air next to him. Not even the sound of it hitting flesh caused Link to peel his eyes away. There was a cry of pain, a pop, and the distinct sound of the other Yiga teleporting away.

"So I have a name for you now. Sheik. Doesn't sound very Yiga-ish." Link said casually, although his eyes were still hard. Sheik was now unarmed, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. "At least I now know you can talk, even if you choose not to." His blue eyes scanned Sheik up and down, noting that his left hand was twisted and limp, starting to bruise. That explained how he had gotten free, he'd broken his own hand to release himself from the bonds.

They both stood motionless, even as Kino stumbled out of the tree, his nose bleeding and supporting a whimpering Gret who had twisted his ankle. Impassively Link offered his challenge. What will you do now?

Sheik finally sighed, stepping up and over the dead body at his feet. He came within a metre of the Hero, his shoulders sagging in either exhaustion or defeat. He offered up his hands, crossing them at the wrist - clearly requesting to be bound once again. There was equal challenge in his blood red eyes, a grim determination and stubbornness that caused Link to relax.

"Nah - not right now." Link replied finally, pushing Sheik's hands away. "Dinner should be ready. Hungry?"

Biting the inside of his lip, Sheik nodded.

\--------

Sheik had refused to eat unless Kino tasted his food first, much to Gret's amusement. The larger Sheikah had laughed as Sheik pushed his bowl towards his brother and had stubbornly refrained from eating until the Sheikah mercenary had tasted both the meat and the vegetables, to ensure they weren't drugged. Satisfied, he'd tucked in, ignoring the chatter of the three men around him in favour of savouring his meal. He had certainly missed eating, and meat had been a luxury that was scarce in the desert. He hadn't said any more, but had offered a nod or a shake of the head to simple questions.

Link wanted to hear his voice again, but the stubborn yiga, ex-yiga, hadn't complied. Link had warred with himself through-out the meal, unsure of where they stood in terms of their once prisoner. Their plan certainly hadn't changed, Kakariko was where they might find answers, and now that he had murdered once of his own, was possibly the safest place for Sheik going forward - at least for now.

Sheik had snorted in disgust when Link had suggested this, and fixed the Hylian with a look of such disdain that Link didn't need to physically hear him to know what Sheik was saying. _As if they are any challenge to me._ Sheik had said, blinking slowly, deliberately to get his point across.

Gret cleared his throat, and Link was afraid he was once again about to burst into song, but instead he started to tell a story.

_"When Hyrule was in its infancy, before the Hylian's heard Hylia and ascended to the skies. There were the Sheikah. Back the, all Sheikah had pale hair and blood eyes. They say their eyes were red from weeping, for the early Sheikah were magical folk who could foresee the future and what they saw made them weep the blood of the lives that would be lost. At the start there were two tribes, the mighty Sheikah Warriors of Kakariko, and the Magical tribe of Kazarino. They were divided in their ways, their tribe leaders hated each other. The citizen's of Kakariko felt the Sheikah mages were shifty and untrustworthy, while the mages thought the warriors of Kakariko were dumb and reckless. One day, under a blood moon, the war chief of Kakariko found his daughter missing, she had fallen in love with a mage from the neighbouring Sheikah village. Marriages between the two tribes were forbidden, and the warchief immediately gathered his friends and charged upon the village to retrieve his daughter. They rode into the night, the Warchief had fifty of his finest men and they stormed into the sleeping village, burning down the houses as they went. The citizens of Kazarino didn't stand a chance. In a last ditch effort, the tribe leader of Kazarino sacrificed himself to the blood moon, cursing the Warchief and all of those that rode with him, and all of their bloodlines forever more. They would be doomed to die, and watch all those around them die, and see their culture and everything they were proud of dilute until they would have no legacy left. And so the Sheikah destroyed their own magic, and started a bloody curse that would see the Sheikah loose their ancient ways."_

_"_ Cool story bro'. What happened to the two that ran away?"

" **Don't interrupt! -**

_However the warchief's daughter who had ran away to be with the son of a humble mage was far enough away to escape the blood curse. They had three son's and three daughters, and they raised them to honour both the warrior and the magic ways. They started the Sheikah customs that we still honour today, and we are all said to be born from those ancestors who borne us through love. That is why the Sheikah lost their blood red eyes, the warchief's daughter and her lover saw only a bright future, and so over time they lost their red eyes."_

They sat in silence as Gret finished his story.

"So you're telling me, the Sheikah are decedents of incestuous brothers and sisters?" Kino finally asked, his eyebrows raised in blatant disbelief.

"It's just a story Kino." Gret replied, looking only a little offended.

"It's bullshit, that's what it is. Everyone knows the Sheikah lost their red eyes because we were nearly wiped out by _war_ , not each other. Our ancestors were forced to bed Hylian's, we were almost as bad as the Gerudo."

"It's metaphorical."

"It's a crock of shit."

"I thought it was a nice story." Link interjected unhelpfully. He turned to Sheik, who had turned out to their arguing a long time ago. "What do you think?"

Sheik snapped out of his thoughts, frowning as he thought about the question. He was never really ever asked for his opinion.

"Use your words, Sheik." Link teased, after a few minutes had passed in silence.

"I think..." Sheik started quietly, "I think it's a crock of shit too."


	12. Glenda

After such an event, Link was glad to bed down for the evening. They had spent a considerable amount of time wrapping and moving the dead body that lay in the midst of their camp. It was gruesome work. Link never liked to deal with the dead, especially not dead humans. Gret had done most of the heavy work; Link found this surprising considering the Sheikah was the milder mannered of the two brothers, but he was a dab hand at wrapping the body in their spare blankets and some of the cloths that he had packed on his horse for sale.

"He apprenticed with the embalmer, before he realised he could barter." Kino had explained quietly, covering the blood drenched ground with fresh leaves and dirt so that they wouldn't attract predators through the night. Soon, the camp was back in order, their supplies were back on their horses and they had dragged their sleeping rugs and blankets as close to the fire as they dared. There was the question of what they were to do with Sheik, who the three agreed they didn't fully trust.

In the end they settled with being safer rather than sorry, and guiltily Link was left with the task of securing the strangely compliant Yiga. There was a broken wrist to sort out first, the appendage was black with bruising and swollen. He used a wooden spoon as a splint, wrapping the joint tightly. The hand was quite possibly broken also, but he wasn't sure how to set that with the meagre items he had in his possession. Sheik didn't flinch or pull away as the break was handled, he simply fixed his red gaze on the Hylian impassively. Truthfully, it made Link a little uneasy - he couldn't read anything behind the dead stare, it was as unnerving as being stalked by a cat - large eyes unmoving and all-seeing, following him as he shifted from left to right, unblinking. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Link set about securing the Yiga, opting to avoid the freshly strapped wrist. His bindings were half-hearted, more for peace of mind than actual security. Besides, they were keeping watch tonight. As Link threaded the last of the rope around the slender chest, the curiosity got the better of him and, without asking, he pulled down the collar of the simple travel shirt Sheik wore to reveal his left shoulder. 

"I was sure that shoulder should be useless, how do you heal so fast?" Link asked. There was a red scar where he had pinned the Yiga with the master sword, but otherwise the flesh was smooth and untouched. He pulled Sheik forward, inspecting what should have been an exit wound, but was only a thin puckered red mark. Using the palm of his hand, he pushed at the shoulder - but it felt normal and moved as a shoulder should. "My sword cut through bone." He whispered, more to himself than to the quiet man in front of him. He realised how close he was, the pale flesh of Sheik's neck inches from Link's face. Suddenly conscious of his actions, Link scooted back - pulling the shirt back up over Sheik's shoulder as an afterthought.

Sheik offered no explanation, he just watched the Hero with his unblinking gaze, his chest rising and falling with steady, controlled breaths - the rest of him otherwise motionless. What little interaction he had offered over dinner had dissipated, and as time had drawn on the Yiga had become more and more lost his thoughts. Unnerved, Link stood and made his way back to the fire, satisfied Sheik wouldn't escape and murder them in their sleep. 

Kino offered to take the first watch, allowing Link and Gret to get a few hours of much needed sleep. They would be in Kakariko in time for lunch, and Kino was looking forward to greeting his Mother and sisters. Link and his brother settled into their sleeping bags, their conversation fizzed out quickly as both of them answered the call of Hypnos and fell silent. Kino was left with the crackling fire to keep him company, its warmth washing over him as he methodically oiled and cleaned his knives and weapons. He was aware of the patient stare from the Yiga, and he pointedly ignored it. Truth be told, he disgusted him - all Yiga did. Only traitors and those possessed by the absolute evil served the Calamity, and the very presence of Sheik made his skin crawl. The fact that he was no longer clad in the disgusting red body suit, and had murdered one of his own did nothing to ease the ill feeling that swelled in his gut. And those red eyes, red with the blood of the innocents he'd killed, no doubt. An anomaly, a monster. It was only out of respect of the Hylian Champion that he didn't cut the cur down there and then, at least then he wouldn't be subjected to that infuriating stare. Just what was he trying to prove? Kino had asked Link if they could use the very last of the Dreamshade, but the Hylian had smiled and shook his head - had spouted some nonsense about not keeping their prisoner drugged for the sake of it. And why not?

"Why did they muzzle you?" Kino found himself asking, his voice carrying weakly over the clearing - barely heard over the cracking of the fire. "In all the stories it's the same - the masked Yiga who slaughters the Sheikah and all enemies of evil. But why? Is it just to scare us? Then why was it locked."

Sheik raised his eyes curiously, contemplating the Sheikah's questions. He didn't answer, choosing not to share his stories. They weren't as grandiose as he was sure Kino thought.

Incensed by Sheik's silence, Kino scoffed angrily, the sound waking Link from his slumber.

"Wha -?" The Hylian mumbled, lifting his head wearily. "s'my turn?"

"Not yet, go back to sleep."

Link blinked slowly, squinting in the light of the fire. "'kay."

"You've plenty to answer for." Kino spat, sure that Link was once again sound asleep. "Fine, keep your secrets for now. We Sheikah know ways to make you talk." The threat lingered in the air, menacing and angry. All that answered the mercenary was the quiet crackled of flames, and that steady, emotionless gaze that made him shudder with rage.

\-----

The steep slopes were hard going for the horses, Riza snorted and shifted uncomfortably as the paths narrowed and wound its way through the hills. At one point, they dismounted from the horses, leading them slowly through the dangerous terrain.

"Nearly there!" Gret called, he had taken the lead, his horse steady and accustomed to the path.

"You should have woken me up." Link grumbled. He had been less than pleased to find that Kino had opted to take the entire watch on his own. The said Sheikah simply snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"You were sleeping like a babe. Talking in your sleep and everything. Who's Glenda?"

The Champion smirked, his hands tightening on the shoulder of his Yiga captive as he recalled what seemed to be a good memory.

"In fact, don't. I don't want to know." Kino cried, his face stricken. "You're such a dog."

"Why, thanks!" Link laughed. Sheik hissed, shaking the hand off his shoulder in irritation as the Champion's fingers bit into the flesh hard enough to bruise.

"Cheer up Sheik - nearly there."

\------

The back gates of Kakariko were guarded by a lone Sheikah by the name of Dalas. He was young and inexperienced, proven by the fact that he was snoozing in the late morning sun by the time the four of them climbed the last steep slope into the village.

"A-hem." Kino said loudly - causing the sleeping Sheikah to startle and drop his spear. He didn't wait for the guard to recover his wits, "Run and tell Lady Impa that Link, The Hylian Champion has returned and has brought with him the Iron Yiga!" He commanded, perhaps a little to grandly to be entirely credible. Dalas straightened his hat, frowning as he inspected the bound Yiga - unconvinced. "Move it! Or I'll move you!" Kino yelled, drawing his blade angrily. The young Sheikah turned tail, running into the village, leaving his fallen spear and freshly fallen hat behind.

Link shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips as he watched the retreating figure. "You sure told him." He commented, stepping forward into the village, pulling the Yiga along by his elbow. Gret shook his head and sighed at the antics of his brother.

They were within sight of Impa's house when they were stopped, two large Sheikah men halted them before the stairs, Dalas red faced and panting beside them.

"Halt." One of them said, his hand moving to the sword on his belt.

"It's good to see you again, Champion." The other, more mild mannered, added.

"Dalas tells me you claim to have the Iron Yiga in your custody. Is this true?"

Link nodded, pushing Sheik forward.

"Is this some sort of joke?" The first Sheikah spat, looking Sheik up and down with a look of disdain. "Where's the mask? The uniform?"

"Long story. Let me talk to Impa." Link replied shortly, his hand twitching towards his sword.

"Pah! Champion or not, you don't get special treatment. Lady Impa doesn't have time to waste on your tall tales!"

"Don't be a dick, Daragh!" Gret yelled, taking a step forward into the tense standoff.

"Stop!" Came a strong cry. The men stood back, startled as Impa descended the stairway, her tiny frame taking one step at a time until she stood between the two guards and directly in front of the Champion. "I will decide what wastes my time, thank you very much Daragh. You may go." She commanded. The burly Sheikah reddened, and he muttered angrily beneath his breath as he stomped away.

"Impa." Link greeted. She smiled warmly, her old eyes leaving his face and landing on the scowling form of the Yiga. Her smile faded immediately as she scrutinised the blonde male. "We thought you might know what to do with him." Link offered.

Impa was quiet for a long time, her gaze fixed on Sheik's face. He stared back, haughty and stubborn. "Yes. Thank you. I would never forget this face. Although the last time I saw it he was wearing -"

Link nodded, unhooking the wretched iron contraption from Riza's saddle as Impa spoke. "This?"

"Yes." Impa took the mask, turning it about in her elderly hands. Sheik looked on, schooling the emotion that began to bubble in his gut. "A tool for enticing fear. Without it, well - he looks like a mere boy. Certainly a far cry from the fabled bringer of terror." She ran her fingers along the inside of the mask, noting the barb with its wicked point and the smooth, worn surface. "And yet, Yiga, you haven't aged a day. For all the years that you have terrorised my clan and murdered my Kin, you are still exactly as I remember you." Her eyes welled, as if she was about to shed tears - but they remained dry and serious. "Thank you Link, for bringing him here. We will take him from here."

Impa waved her guards back over, her expression growing distant. They surrounded the Yiga, each taking an elbow roughly and leading him away.

"What will happen to him?" Link asked, his voice strained as he watched Sheik being pulled away. At one point Sheik dug in his heels, turning to give one last look towards the Champion before he was shoved forward. As emotionless as Sheik had been, Link recognised the small look of fear in those red eyes, and suddenly he wasn't so sure he was doing the right thing.

"He will answer for his crimes, Champion."

"You're going to kill him?" Link asked, panicked.

"We don't believe in capital punishment here, Link. He will not die by Sheikah hands."

Panic abated, Link turned his attention back to Impa. "That's okay then, I guess. He's a bit messed up. That was locked." He pointed to the mask, still held in Impa's grip. "He killed one of his own as well, we were ambushed."

"Murder is not unfamiliar to him." She replied simply. Her gaze was faraway, distant, as if she was only half listening. "If you will excuse me, I have plenty to do this morning. Perhaps I will see you this evening for dinner?" She asked absentmindedly, already turning and ascending the steps that led to her house.

"Yeah - maybe?" Link answered her retreating figure, his hand scratching the back of his neck. Gret coughed awkwardly.

"Ah. Well. Home sweet home." The merchant said good naturedly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Are you staying a while?"

Link shook his head. "I'm going to head to Hateno to restock and visit a friend or two. I'll be back in a day or so."

Kino scoffed. "Meeting Glenda?"

"Maureen actually, maybe her sister Kipa if she's up for joining in again. Why - you want a shot?" Link challenged, swinging up into the saddle. Kino looked horrified at the suggestion, throwing his hands up in disgust.

"No way! I've got a girl!"

"Just one?" The Hero laughed, kicking his mare into a walk. "Thanks for the company fellas - see you soon!"

The Sheikah brothers waved in goodbye, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Despite his cheery farewell, Link's smile soon faded to be replaced with a thoughtful, worried frown. He still couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was horribly, disastrously wrong. Even worse, he couldn't relieve himself of that last fleeting look the Yiga had given him as he had been led away. 

He tried to shake the feeling, tried to make himself look forward to an overnight of frivolity that awaited in the neighbouring village. He tried to picture Maureen, with her dark hair and red lips and perfectly succulent breasts and her younger sister Kipa, with her mousy features and button nose and an ass that could eclipse the moon.

Yes, a suitable distraction, much needed to take him mind from the thin waif he'd just delivered.

But delivered to what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have chosen to make Link a bit of a champion in the bedroom. Sue me. 
> 
> Thanks for the comments and Kudos :) Hope you are still enjoying the story so far!


	13. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this one. I've debated with myself back and forth about how I wanted this chapter to play out. I'm happy with the result. 
> 
> I'm back to work at the moment as well, so updates may be a little slower. I'm genuinely surprised I've managed to churn out this much to be honest! The premise of this story i thought out years ago, and it's grown arms and legs. I'm really looking forward to giving you all a little closure. There's a reason for everything! 
> 
> As always, thanks for the comments and kudos! <3

Link rode into Hateno just after nightfall. The road was quiet, but the small town bustle started as he entered through the town archway and followed the lantern lit path up the winding hill and to the centre. By Hylia, he loved this town. Link wasn't sure what it was but something in Hateno just felt like home, something in the sweet air sent him back to a time he couldn't remember, a familiarity he couldn't fathom. The faces of Hateno were as foreign to him as any town, but they were friendly and welcoming and that always made him ache to return. He dismounted at the tavern, stretching his limbs tiredly as he pushed open the main door and made his way inside.

Immediately the smell of cooking and beer hit him, bitter and sweet at the same time. It was intoxicating, Link felt a wide smile grace his lips as he settled himself at the bar, choosing an empty stool at the far away corner. The barmaid served him immediately, winking as she thumped a tall tanker of wheat ale before him. It was cool and delicious.

He flirted casually with the barmaids, his eyes scanning the bustling lounge until he found who he was looking for. Maureen was still working, collecting empty glasses and plates and chatting cheerfully with the locals. She was a beautiful girl, her hair was longer now - heavy dark curls bounced around her ample hips and framed her pretty face. She had large, expressive dark almond eyes, rosy red cheeks and a constant wicked smile that caused butterflies to erupt in Link's stomach when it was aimed at him. She was the daughter of the cobbler, and she had dreams of travel and grandeur and much greater things than this town could provide. Link knew she saved every single rupee she earned in a jar beneath her bed, her get-away fund as she had called it. Link sometimes fantasised that was he not a Champion, had he not been given his impossible task, Maureen would have been someone he would have quite liked to settle down with.

The room was emptying and Link was sipping his third drink by the time she came and sat down next to him. She looked tired, but happy to see him.

"I'm on a break but I finish in an hour." She said, her chin resting wearily in the palm of her hand. She still sported her usual lazy smile, her eyes twinkling in their constant state of amusement. Link thought that she was kind, too kind. And definitely too good for him.

"An hour it is, then." He smiled back, nodding his drink towards her. Her long fingers took his hand, inspecting his dirty fingernails and tracing the deep callouses in his fingers and the palm of his hand. Her hands looked tiny compared to his.

"I hope you have an adventure to share with me." She demanded, although there was no bite to her voice. She was as sweet as always, and Link found himself lost in her charm.

The front door to his house battered open unceremoniously. Link had tried his best to be quiet, but it was difficult with the barmaid wrapped around his body, her arms around his neck and legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She giggled incessantly, ignoring Link's shooshing as they stumbled through the town. He couldn't help but laugh with her, although he was a little more conscientious of the neighbours than she was.

She kissed him desperately as he fumbled to close the door, her lips hot and sweet, her nose bumping adorably against his as she giggled and moaned. He answered her back in kind, enjoying the moment while it lasted.

His knees hit the side of the bed, and they both fell into the mattress with a grunt. Link landed heavily on the smaller woman, she 'oofed' in surprise as the breath left her lungs. "Sorry." He apologised, righting himself so that he was on his knees, and she on her back.

He took the moment to undress her with his eyes, taking in every inch of the woman before him. She was glorious, even dressed as plainly as she was. He knew she was all soft skin and supple curves beneath the simple work clothes. He knew that she was ticklish and responsive and daring. She bit her lip, propping herself up on her elbows as she breathed heavily.

"Are you going to do something about those clothes then?" She asked, her face flushed with heat.

Link knew the gasp was of appreciation, knew that he had an appealing body, well toned and firm. He knew she was expecting the scars, most of which he didn't know how he had gotten. Her hands were warm on his bare chest, he gasped as they ghosted over a particularly sensitive spot making him shiver.

"What's this?" She asks, her hands finding his latest scar - the stab wound just above his hip. He'd almost forgotten about it, the actual even now felt so long ago. "Poor baby." She coddles, climbing to her knees so that she sit upright against his bare skin. "I'll kiss you better." She leans upwards and whispers into his ear, her quick hands undoing the lace of her bodice. He helps her, revealing her flawless shoulders and ample breasts. She shuffles out of the skirt she's wearing, and scoots herself backwards so that she is resting easily at the top of the bed.

He's lost in her once again, quietly admiring everything she has to offer. He's still half dressed as he crawls on his hands and knees towards her, leaning forward to plant his mouth on the delicate curve of her neck. He can smell her, can smell the light perfume and saltiness of her skin. He can taste her days work, the faint smell of tobacco and beer lingering in her dark hair. She yelps in delight as he nips her, taking her hips in his hands firmly. She keens and gasps, pressing her hot skin against his, as if she needs contact with every inch of his body. He pulls back, once again taking in her flushed face and wry smile as she pants in the heat of the moment. She's delightful, everything he should want.

But he feels nothing.

He tries again, allowing her this time to do the work. He tries to concentrate on her, on how she feels, on every sensation that she is giving him, tries to will himself to enjoy the moment. He's deserved it. The road is lonely and Maureen is one of the women who give him that human contact, that usually make him feel alive and wanted for just a few hours at a time.

But all he feels is old.

It takes a few minutes, but Maureen realises that she's not making any progress, and pulls him down to lie beside her. She nestles into the crook of his elbow, draping her pale arm across him and sighs in contentment. Link expects her to be angry, to mock him or laugh at him. He wanted to enjoy himself, forget about the world for a moment - but tonight the world is too heavy for him to bare alone.

She doesn't ask him to explain, doesn't ask him to elaborate on why he isn't overtaken by lust with her. She hums a quiet diddy, peering up into his face as she rhythmically strokes the taunt skin on his hip. Link gazes back, once again lost in her youth, in her innocent eyes that brim with life. Her humming quietens, her eyelids growing heavy as she struggles to keep focused. She soon snores, leaving Link with the sweet aroma of her skin and the blissful quiet of the indoors.

He lies awake until the small hours of the morning, absently stroking her hair, his mind both in the room and far away. He can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that he's made a grievous error, that there are things in the crazy world that are beyond his control but within his reach.

Dawn peers through the window before Link finally succumbs to sleep, his mind made up.

\---------

Sheik waited until they descended the stairs behind the main house before he struggles, throwing himself backwards with as much force as he can in an attempt to loosen the hold the Sheikah guards have on his arms. It's a failed attempt, the larger of the two guards lifts his hand and strikes him with such force his ears ring.

"Don't bother." The guard spits, opting to grip the blonde braid tightly as well as Sheik's elbow. Sheik doesn't give him the satisfaction of crying out. He promises there and then that whatever they have in store for him, he'll not relent. They lead him down towards the water, a narrow path disappears into a little cave cut into the rock. It's only slightly higher than the water line, the tunnel damp and cold, no doubt subjected to flooding in heavy rain.

They don't go far, descending only a few metres before a heavy iron door blocks their path.

Wonderful, Sheik thinks gloomily, a dungeon.

He's dragged inside, despite digging his heels into the hard ground. Who would he be if he were to make it easy for them? The guard ignores him, tightening his grip painfully on Sheik's hair until he's hissing under his breath.

There are chains hanging from the top of the back wall, a quick glance reveals they are attached to a series of pulleys. And there are multiple sets, for multiple people. Sheik raises his eyebrows and wonders what sort of morbid past the Sheikah are hiding.

They make short work of securing him, Sheik wonders if he is destined to spend all of his life in chains. He's certainly been in enough of them over the years. Perhaps most annoyingly, they tighten the pulley system, drawing the shackles high so that his arms are spread above his head, and he's forced to extend his toes just to stop him bearing all of his weight onto his wrists. It's uncomfortable and humiliating. He feels the familiar feeling of rage fester in his gut, his eyes narrow in malice as the Sheikah bind his legs at the knees, preventing him from parting them. They check that the shackles are locked, and then leave - locking the door behind him.

As deep as he is underground, there is very little light. A scone casts a faint light into the room from outside through the window in the door, but other than that Sheik is left in darkness. Normally he would welcome it, but today he was in unfamiliar, hostile territory and every bone in his body screamed at him that he was in danger.

Impa. The name brought him to the brink of uncontrollable rage, for reasons he couldn't fathom. She was an old, withered hag - Sheik was sure he had never properly met her, but there was something about her that was familiar. Something about her that made him sick to his stomach. His fractured memories were a mess, there were points in his life he had no idea existed. He couldn't remember a time before the Yiga, couldn't remember much before before. For every day that he was working there might have been a thousand days of darkness between them. How could he even keep track? How could he ever remember the faces of those he met. Just day after day of hoping for that taste of sweet freedom - so close to his grasp but so far out of his reach. He almost tasted it yesterday. In the moment that he made his decision to break free, the pain was worth it, he tasted it. He'd chosen to sink his blade into Yano, it had been his own decision. He'd chosen not to run when he'd had the chance, when that blasted Champion had dared him to choose. For whatever reason, he'd chosen to see out the path he himself was dictating.

Today would be another bump in the road.

Sheik was beginning to feel the fatigue in his shoulders when the door finally opened.

Two different Sheikah guards flanked the village elder. Impa shuffled into the room, her presence surprisingly imposing.

"So." She stated, her narrow eyes inspecting the Yiga from head to toe. "This is an unusual situation we have found ourselves in."

If he could have shrugged his indifference, he would have - as it was he could only school his expression and wait.

"You've created quite a legend surrounding yourself. But here you are. Just a boy."

She held out her hand to one of her guards who passed her a heavy parchment scroll.

"You will atone for the misery you have brought on the Sheikah." She continued, unrolling the thick scroll. It fell, its contents so long the parchment rolled along the ground for a couple of inches. "With my guards as witness, you will have the chance to plead guilty, or not guilty to these accusations that are held against you. I will read out these names of those you have murdered, and you will have the chance to atone."

Sheik snorted, holding in a scoffing laugh. So this was how it was.

"For the murder of Collta, son of Sheera. Do you plead guilty or not guilty." Sheik remained silent, unimpressed with the theatrics. What did it matter what he answered?

"For the murder of Anna, wife of Dorian. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

She cleared her throat, ignoring the Yiga's silence.

"For the murder of Luca, husband of the now widowed Carrol. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

She lowered the scroll, fixing Sheik with an icy cold look. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"For the murder of Rukka, Son of Impa. Do you plead guilty or not guilty."

The look that Impa fixed on Sheik could only have been described as pure hatred. He knew there and then that he was in trouble.

She began rolling the parchment back into its scroll. "You may think silence will save you from admitting your guilt. That was only the first few in the long list of ill you have caused us. I'll give you time to think." She turned to leave, pausing as she crossed the threshold into the corridor. Impa turned to face her guards, who curiously hadn't turned to follow her. "Make him talk." She commanded, slamming the door firmly behind her.

Sheik couldn't quell the pounding of his terrified heart.

Wherever this path leads. He thought to himself. I chose this. 


	14. Commit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning - graphics scenes that may be disturbing. You have been warned!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - graphics scenes that may be disturbing. You have been warned!

When Link awoke the next morning, he was alone. The sheets were cold and empty, barely an indent in the mattress as witness that his side has been accompanied merely hours before. He didn't sigh, or groan or make any indication it bothered him at all. Link sat upright, still feeling tired and unrested, as if he had spent the entire night tossing and turning in the throws of some dilemma. But he was awake now, and the morning sun was obnoxious in its persistence that he should rise and see to his day.

Hateno was to be a restock and refuel, although it had fallen short in the soulful refuelling he had had in mind. 

If the world was peaceful and no longer threatened, Link thought he might like to settle in a village like Hateno. It bustled with a liveliness that was rare in Hyrule and it's character was preserved and historic. One of the few places in the kingdom that hadn't been torn limb from limb. He had seen the ruins, seen the devastation that befell the towns and small holdings closer to the Castle. Something nagged at him that the Castle had been surrounded by a city, of which little evidence remained, and he shuddered to think about the poor hopeless souls who had lived and died in a moment, who woke up one morning with thoughts filled with their own hopes and dreams and never lived another day.

There was also that persistent nagging feeling that he was suppose to be one of those souls - that he had cheated death in a way mothers and fathers would have wished they could have emulated. He, like the cheerful residents, _survivors,_ of Hyrule were merely making do. One hundred years.

"Hi Ho, Hero - what can I do for you?" Asked a cheery trader as Link entered his store. It was bright and airy, but sparsely stocked, supplying mostly seeds and manure and all manner of items that a farming community might need.

"Just some fresh fruit and some feed for my horse." Link replied, dumping a handful of rupees onto the counter. "And some bandages and potion, if you have any."

The trader nodded, taking the rupees without inspecting and leaving Link in the front of the store as he rummaged in the back room. He reappeared with a burlap sack, handing over the contents.

"That'll keep you a little while. You staying long?"

Link shook his head, smiling absent minded. "No, until tomorrow morning maybe. I've wasted enough time this past week."

"We're mighty thankful for everything you've been doing." The trader lamented, pulling a handful of carrots out from beneath the counter. "For your horse Mr Hero, best carrots in all of the village."

"Thanks," Link took the offered vegetables gratefully, although he was starting to feel uncomfortable being the focus on the kind shop keeper's scrutinising, worshiping gaze and hopeful smile. It was a huge burden to live up to. "Have a good day, shop keep. Thanks again." 

"No Mr Hero, thank you. Anytime. Whatever you need."

Link left the store with a familiar feeling, the crushing weight of responsibility and expectation.

_I wonder what old me would have felt._ He mused, shaking off the heavy feeling and resuming the spring in his step. _If only I could remember before. Who even was I?_

_\----------------------------------------------_

There was a pattern to their interrogation.

At first they tried water, bucket and bucket of freezing cold water soaked him to the skin. So cold it took his breath away until he was gasping for air. And still it came, over his head, cascade after cascade of icy cold liquid until his lungs burned as they fought for oxygen. He was frozen when they finished, his simple clothes soaking and clinging to his sodden skin. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and he shook with chills. Two Sheikah stood guard when he opened his clenched eyes. Their faces were impassive and cold.

"Will you commit to your guilt?" The larger one asked, pulling out the same long scroll Impa had read from before. He started to read another list of names, six in all, different from the ones that had been iterated to him before.

Sheik remained silent, clenching his teeth to stop them chittering.

"Very well."

He felt a sharp pain to the back of his head as someone, or something, pulled at his hair, forcing his head back. The water started again, although this time it was worse - it poured into his nostrils and his open mouth relentlessly, and for one terrifying minute Sheik was drowning and suffocating at the same time.

And then it stopped, and he was allowed to throw his head forward and expel the water from his mouth and lungs. At least now he could breath again, although every gasp was painful, wrenching as he coughed and spewed water onto the dank floor.

"Will you commit to your guilt?"

_Go to hell._

\-------------------------------------------------

Link spent the rest of the afternoon with the locals. There was a barn to raise, and they needed an extra set of hands to help with the labour. It was tiring, rewarding work. Work that Link was more than happy to oblige with, in fact he found it cathartic, so much so he found himself wondering if he could live this life, one day. 

Maureen gave him a smile and a wave when we entered the Tavern for dinner, she was working and once again Link thought that she looked fine - that had he been an ordinary man she would have been someone he could have perhaps been happy with. But he wasn't ordinary, and the restless ache in his gut reminded him that perhaps he was never destined to be truly happy either.

\-------------------------------------------------

"You are an abomination."

By some miracle, Sheik had managed to sleep - exhaustion had overtaken him almost an hour ago - and as he hung, still wet and sore and freezing cold, he had somehow managed to close his eyes as they had chosen to leave him alone.

Impa was back - her once genial features marred with a vacant hostility towards him.

But now he was awake, and faced with the bleak realisation that he hadn't been dreaming, he wasn't back in his room, and that the events of the past week had really transpired.

"I have read about you - a Yiga puppet who sent to carry out petty murder and sabotage. A trained dog, no more, no less." If she were trying to anger him, she would be sadly disappointed. Sheik was not unaware of what he was. But he had the feeling she wasn't really talking to him.

"The Sheikah and the Yiga were once the same, torn apart by our allegiances. They serve Ganon, and all the evil the represents. If you serve them, you serve him. We Sheikah serve the Hylian royal family, and all that is good in the land."

He couldn't help it, Sheik scoffed - out of both pity and disdain. What did it matter what banner they chose to fight under, Sheikah or Yiga or Sheik, they were all just slaves to another's cause.

Impa scowled, her ancient features fierce and frightening. "You will talk. One way or another, you will tell me what I want to know. Our," she spat the word as if it were poison, "race are long lived - yet you haven't aged a day. You are exactly as the scriptures depict. You will tell me what magic preserves you so."

_If only I knew._

"Now. Will you commit to your crimes and admit your guilt?"

\---------------------

The sun was setting when Link heard footsteps cross the bridge to his cottage. He smiled, looking over his shoulder as Maureen tucked her dress under her knees and sat to watch him. He was engrossed in the task of grooming his horse, Riza's coat had been thick with grime and dust from two weeks travel and neglect. Her wound had healed neatly, and after an hours brushing her coat gleamed and her hooves had been trimmed and cleaned.

"Good evening." Link called, her voice light with the smile on his lips.

"I brought you some supper." She replied, nudging a basket across the ground towards him. "Penny baked you a pie - to say thank you for the barn." She was unusually shy, her rosy cheeks red and her eyes looked anywhere but his face.

"Tell her thank you."

"You won't be staying long enough to tell her yourself?" She asked, her eyebrows raided in accusing question. Link had the feeling he ought to be careful, that she was here for a reason and he needed to be careful of how he answered.

"No, I leave in the morning. There's something I have to do."

She nodded, sighing as she climbed to her feet. "An adventure."

"No one goes looking for adventure, this is duty and duty only."

"Still, you take what you need from here and then you leave. Like some sort of vagabond."

He laughed, although not unkindly. "I'm sorry - I wish I had a choice, I'd give it all up in a heartbeat."

It was her turn to laugh, and she did so dryly. "You'd never be happy here. Never be happy with me, or my sister, or anyone. People come and go from this village, but none as wild as you. You're like an animal that's been caged it's whole life and then let loose, lost."

"Thanks." What imagery.

She shook her head, frustrated. "Like a little boy lost. You had every intention to take me last night like we've done before, and I think I know the reason you couldn't."

"Hey -" suddenly wounded, Link tried to interrupt to defend his bruised ego but she shook her head violently and shooshed him.

"I'm not what you were looking for. No one here is. There are different fields you need to hoe, and I ain't one of them."

"Fields to hoe..?"

She nodded, picking up the basket and thrusting it into his arms. "Take this pie as an example. I bet it's as sweet as any pie Miss Penny makes, but to someone as wild as you - it'll be bitter."

"I don't think -"

"- so maybe it's a good think you're leaving again. You wouldn't be able to stay still, not here - not with me, or anyone else for that matter."

Link opened his mouth to argue, and then abruptly closed it, realising she was right. "You're a wise little witch, aren't you?" He answered, laughing with his usual good nature. Tonight it made him feel hollow.

She shook her head. "Wise - probably. A witch - no. It doesn't take voodoo to realise you're here to get away from something."

Perhaps.

She sighed sweetly, the seriousness in her face melting away as her large eyes shone up at him. They were wet. "I hope at the end of this all, whenever you do what you need to do - that you're alive and well."

"Yeah... I hope so." What could he say to that? There was a great possibility that he wouldn't survive again, he had been given one extra life and now he was existing on borrowed time.

"Don't die Link."

\--------------------------------------

Loosing a fingernail was a minor inconvenience at most. Sheik hated how they felt as they yanked from the nail bed, it was a persistent pain, a constant throb as the nail ripped away from his skin. Then they would bleed, and burn. The worse part would be when they grew back - not slowly like what was normal, but agonisingly quickly, bursting through freshly healing skin.

The Sheikah growled in frustration as the second thumb nail tore away in a bloody mess. Six bloody fingernails littered the floor. He was disappointed the Yiga had stayed silent. Torture was not something he was comfortable with and the level, challenging gaze made things worse. It was the lack of reaction that was truly frustrating, the threat of having to escalate to elect a response, any response. His pliers were already bloody.

"Take a tooth." Offered a helpful voice from the door way. 

A tooth. Right. He could do that. Couldn't he?

Sweat poured down the Shiekah's forehead, and unthinkingly he reached forward and jammed his fingers in the Yiga's mouth - like he would do to his dog to get him to drop something he shouldn't have been eating. It had been a terrible mistake on his part. As he pried open the Yiga's mouth with one hand, and descended towards the back molars with the soiled pliers, he saw rather than felt the inhuman strength the Yiga used to clamp down on his unsuspecting index finger. He heard the crunch, and somewhere he heard himself scream as he yanked and pulled and thrashed.

In the end the Sheikah sat by the door, cradling his bloody hand to his chest.

Sheik grimaced, spitting the bloody third of the finger out of his mouth. It landed, adding insult to injury, beside the whimpering fool.

"Rooky mistake." The other, older, Sheikah sighed, picking up the discarded pliers from where they had fallen, forgotten, to the floor.

Sheik stared him down as the Sheikah approached, strangely calm. The first strike landed in his gut, expelling the air from his lungs. The second blow was to his cheek, far too sharp to be a fist. Sheik felt the object slice his cheek, realising in an instant the Sheikah was using the pliers to batter him across the face.

Once, twice, three times. Over and over again, repeatedly across Sheik's left cheek until he felt the bone crack under the force.

"You'll regret that." The older man said, his tone emotionless. Dazed, Sheik blinked, his vision swimming. He could barely see from the blood that covered his eyes. No. Not blood. His left eyelid was open but he saw nothing as his battered eye refused to respond. Just pain.

Sheik took a mental check. Left eye temporarily useless, cheek crushed, lip burst, a wound across his cheek starting already to swell. Two teeth loose and at some point he had bitten his tongue enough to flood his mouth with blood. He spat red to the floor. Somewhere, he was aware there was still a pitiful cry from the floor in front of him.

"Try something like that again, Yiga," the Sheikah warned, brandishing the pliers like a sword infront of Sheik's face, "and I'll simply kill you."

Sheik found himself smiling, his grin lopsided, "don't make promises you can't keep, Sheikah." He spat, pleased his voice still sounded strong.

The Sheikah in question cocked his head curiously. "Very well. Do you commit to your guilt?"

A pain, a horrible burning pain, erupted into Sheik's ribs. It was as if a burning hot poker had been pushed into the soft flesh between his ribcage.

No. Not as if. Caught unawares, Sheik found himself howling in pain as the nauseating smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils. Bastards. All of them. As he tried to curb his distress, Sheik's remaining working eye snapped to a point on the ceiling for him to focus on. One fleeting thought forced him to grit his bloody teeth, preventing another cry in agony from escaping.

_I chose this_.


	15. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sort of gruesome chapter. I hope you enjoy it, for me it's a pivotal moment. I hope i've done it justice.

It had been a day, or two or three. Sheik didn't know, he wasn't aware of the passing of time. Just the burning pain that ached through his bones and every inch of his skin. He was delirious, unable to string two thoughts together coherently, focused only on the things he knew. Pain. Right now all he knew was pain. They had suspended him a foot off of the ground, allowing his wrists to bear his entire weight from above his head.

His right leg was broken, as was the fingers in both his hands. They had snapped them, one by one, reciting that damned list. Commit to your guilt. Commit to your guilt.

He'd commit to nothing.

Nothing.

Let them commit to their own guilt.

Sheik was bleakly aware of his peace being disturbed as the door opened again. He opened his working eye blearily and seeing only the floor, tiredly lifted his head. The movement was agonising, his muscles were clenched tight, and every jostle caused his skull to scream. He was aware his jaw was probably broken, for now.

It was Impa, again. She had appeared every now and again to check on her handiwork. Her face was impassive as always, her wrinkled features stony and her dark eyes fixed on the limp form infront of her.

"There isn't one person in this village you haven't bereaved." She said at last, after what felt like an age of pensive silence. "And yet you show no remorse. Are you human in shape only? I suppose it's not outlandish to believe that a monster as long lived as you is also soulless. Is that correct?"

If he had had the energy, Sheik would have laughed, however he was spending all he had just keeping his head raised. A monster theory again, of course.

"Drop him." No sooner were the words out of her mouth that Sheik felt the sickening sensation of falling, and before he knew it he was crying in pain as he clattered to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Hands still bound, he did his best to manoeuvre himself so that he was almost upright, his couldn't quite make his shattered leg move, and his broken ribs prevented him from sitting straight. He felt a tooth dislodge itself from the back of his mouth, and he swirled it around the pool of blood with his tongue. With as much strength as he could muster, Sheik spat the ivory tooth as far as he could, extremely satisfied as it bounced square off of the shrivelled imp's forehead and left a bloody dollop above her left eye.

She raised her hand to her forehead, wiping the blood into a gruesome smear.

Sheik heard it before he felt it. The sound of wood hitting bare flesh (when had he lost his shirt?), once, twice, three times and then the pain blossomed across his back - winding him so intensely he couldn't breath. Every ounce of air had been driven from his lungs, he could feel his eyes bulge in their sockets. He could feel the cold ground on his forehead, he'd curled in on himself after each blow.

_I'll kill every one of you._ He thought, life gasping back into his body as he wheezed. _If it's the last thing I do. I'll kill you._ The thought flitted through his mind along with a bizarre sense of deja vu. He couldn't help it. He laughed, pained and manic and desperately lost all at once. He laughed in grief, he laughed in pain, he laughed because he knew that this wouldn't stop, nothing he could say or do would change anything. If he "committed" to his guilt they wouldn't be satisfied. It couldn't bring their dead back. And really, he had nothing to admit to. He had never ordered the marks. He was simply the puppet.

The pathetic little puppet mouse.

He felt a hand in his hair, pulling him upright. He cried in pain again, his scalp was in agony - he was aware that his usually white blonde hair was red with blood. Everything was red with blood.

Impa's beady eyes were inches from his face, her gaze more menacing now that it was smeared with blood.

"You won't talk? Fine. I suppose you're used to that." A wicked smile graced her face. "My blacksmith has made a present for you, Yiga."

_My name is Sheik._ Something in her tone made his blood curdle with fear. He knew that tone. He'd heard it before. Years ago, no, millennia ago.

_"You've run away for the last time, my little Sheik. What's the matter? Do you not appreciate how much we love you? How much_ **_I_ ** _love you. I don't understand what all of the fuss is about. Now, now - hush hush. There's no need to scream. In fact, there'll be no more screaming from now on. I have a present for you Sheik, one you'll love."_

The memory slammed into him like a hinox's fist. It was one he had tried very hard not to remember. And here it was, playing out in front of him once again.

Impa pulled a fragment of his dread from a pouch on her belt. The iron mask was, of course, familiar to him. It was the symbolism of everything he hated in the world. It was his silence and his servitude. It was his fears and his wants. He couldn't remember life before it - couldn't even remember really _why_ he was made to wear it. All he knew in his bleak life was that he would do anything to be free of it.

And free he had been - for a few blissful days.

"There's a few improvements you may like." Impa smiled, pleased that the fight in the Yiga before her seemed to have melted away. "Or not like, it's up to you." She raised the mask to the Yiga's face, noting how it was made for him. It fit perfectly. She'd had to jiggle the bit slightly past his closed lips, but he'd opened them easily enough when her guard pulled his hair tightly behind his head again. His eyes were half lidded, one of them filled with so much blood the red Iris was indistinguishable, the other one taking on a vacant dissonance that stirred an uneasy feeling in her gut.

She willed it away, reaching behind his head to hear the satisfying click as the bridle locked into place. They had replaced the lock, one that had strangely been similar to the ones they used, with one of their own. Impa had resisted the urge to throw away the key.

_This is for you, Rukka_. She vowed, making sure the Yiga before her understood the look of hate in her eyes.

"And now for the surprise." She taunted, gently patting the Yiga on the top of his head. Her blacksmith was a genius, he had spent the entire night working on her alteration. The mask had once ended beneath the Yiga's eyes, but she had instructed Yopa to extend the edges of the mask to encompass the sides of the head, she had been specific in her design. The additional panels were curved, but hollow - allowing the insertion of the two plates she held in her hands. "My son, as well as others, will never see the light of day again. And now, that luxury is denied to you too."

Quickly, before she could change her mind, and without looking into the pair of dead eyes in front of her, she slid the metal plates into the panels of the mask, creating a perfect blindfold. They clicked perfectly into place and with a shaking hand Impa pulled her key from around her neck and locked them in place.

She wanted to feel satisfied, she wanted to feel some sort of achievement, the feeling of vengeance. But all she felt was nausea, it rose from the pits of her stomach until she felt it threaten to spill from her throat. The Yiga before her slumped forward as her guard released him, and he lay motionless, as if dead. There was no feeling of justice. Dissatisfied, Impa turned and left the room - slamming the door behind her in anger.

Sheik mutely heard the door, the sound muffled now that his ears were covered. There was only darkness, blissful darkness. And pain. He hummed, low in his throat - and attempted to kid himself that he was back home, and the past week had been nothing more than a dream.

\-------------------------------------

Kino had been happy to return home for a while, although he had to admit the atmosphere in the village for the past day was strange and tense. It was no secret what he and his brother had helped bring back. There were whispered of excitement, disbelief, but mostly grief.

His mother, Carroll, had not stopped crying since she had heard the news. Kino had known his father had died during a mission when he and his twin were extremely young. So young in fact, Kino couldn't remember him. He had learned not to ask about his father growing up, as even the mention of his would send his mother into a torrent of uncontrollable tears and she would be lost for days in a dark mood. But now, more than twenty years later, Kino had finally heard the truth. His father, like many of the Sheikah clan, had been assassinated. And his murderer was beneath them in the vaults under the village. He should have been angry, furious even. His childhood had been a mostly happy one, but it had been difficult. He had been the responsible one, the one that looked after his mother when she was too poorly to leave her bed for months on end. He had been the one who had nursed Gret when he was sick for weeks with a cough that left him breathless and aching and weak. He had been the one who had endured years of brutal training in order to become strong, in order to protect his family and village.

And yet he couldn't quite muster the feeing of hate he felt he should have had. He'd listened intently as a boy to the stories the elders told of the Iron Yiga, he'd shivered in fear, spent sleepless nights worried he would be assassinated as he slept. But he had also spent the last while escorting the, admittedly lacklustre, legend across Hyrule and if one thing had been crystal clear, it was that Sheik wasn't the orchestrator.

Carroll was having none of it, she had screamed for him to stop talking when he had tried to explain that the thing, person, whatever, they had prisoner beneath the village wasn't evil. She'd become violent in her grief, calling him traitor and treason and every name under the sun.

Even more worryingly so, he was hearing tales of gruesome things that were happening in the vaults. His childhood friend, Nichol, was apparently now missing a finger and a visit to him made Kino's blood run cold.

He should have been angry, it would have been easy to be caught up with the feeling overtaking the village - rage and pitiful mourning was so thick in the air he could almost smell it.

"Did you hear?" Kino stopped what he was doing, he had been drawing water from the well when he heard the fervent whispers of his cousin and his aunt. They were speaking in hushed tones, so not to be overheard. Kino forced himself to slowly draw the bucket upwards again, slowly, so not to seem as if he was eavesdropping. "They're going to bring the Yiga out for us to see. Apparently they're going to punish him publicly."

His aunt gasped in horror. "You're kidding Pirah, why would they do such a thing?"

Whatever reason was given, was lost to Kino as they wandered out of earshot. Everything about today felt wrong, and although he should have been as angry and as grieved as the rest of the village - he wasn't.

The bucket clattered it's way to the bottom of the well with a splash, forgotten.

\------------------

Sheik hadn't moved by the time they came for him again. He didn't make a sound as they grabbed him by his elbows, lifting him from the ground and dragging him between them like a ragdoll. He was lost in his blissfully dark, silenced world, wallowing in his own regret. He should have run when he'd had the chance. The scene played out in front of him over and over again.

Link, standing before him, magnificent as any champion of Hyrule was suppose to be. The still warm corpse by his feet, a promise to himself fulfilled. Blue eyes challenging him, mischievously, asking him if he was going to run. Sheik had felt at that moment, that he was given a choice, he was sure that if he had left at that point, Link would have let him. It had been clear, he'd had a _choice._ A choice he couldn't remember having before. No shackles binding him, no muzzle silencing him, no master to command him.

And he'd chosen to stay.

He'd chosen to stay with the damn Hylian, the only person who had shown him an ounce of kindness in his life, and this is where it had led him. From one prisoned life to another.

Cold air hit his bare chest and Sheik shivered. He was aware that they were still moving, they were climbing upwards on an incline, Sheik remembered it was the same one that they descended when they took him to the cave. He was disorientated, the outside world dark and strangely quiet. He moaned in pain as his shattered knee bounced off of something hard and unforgiving.

The light that filtered through the mask was bright, he could tell he was now outside, and that it was daytime. Someone lowered him, pushing him forward onto his knees again. This time he was in a position to hold his own weight. He could make out that someone was speaking over him, a man's voice.

"This Yiga is being tried publicly for the murder of our brethren. Our chief has consulted the ancient scriptures which decree the law of the Sheikah and it has been decided that this Yiga shall be absolved of his crimes."

There was a boo from what must have been a crowd, if the volume was anything to go by.

"Our Lady Impa has ordered that this Yiga is to be given a lash with the Cat-o-nine tails for every name on this list which records every clan member lost at his hands."

There was a hushed silence. Sheik's ears perked, the weight of the words falling on him as he contemplated their meaning. How many names had they asked him about? Fifty? One hundred? Was it even the full list?

"After one hundred and ninety-six lashes the Sheikah will consider this toll absolved."

One hundred and ninety-six. Sheik panicked for a moment, he knew it wouldn't, couldnt, (Could it?!) kill him but he dreaded what was to come. He wished he could see. The darkness was infuriating, like a stalked rabbit he felt fear bubble up from beneath him. He'd never been subjected to so many lashes before. He'd had them before, and it hadn't been pleasant but -

"One."

He couldn't help it, he screamed into his mask. White hot pain erupted like fire across his back. He had been caught by surprise. He found himself shaking, throwing his head from side to side. What had he done? What had he done in his life to deserve this path? His thoughts were disjointed, jittering -

"Two."

And again. He tried to stop himself from crying out, he could feel the metal bit pinning his tongue pierce the flesh. He could hear the blood rush to his ears, was aware that he was crying desperately, his body trying to recoil away from the pain.

"Three."

Now despite the gag, Sheik was gibbering nonsense, although his words were unintelligible, he wasn't even sure what he was saying. He felt as if he was praying, although to what or who he didn't know.

"Four-"

"STOP."

The forth blow never came, every muscle in Sheik's body was coiled in wait, but as the voice - strangely he heard it clearly even through the iron that covered his ears - yelled out his heart leapt. He recognised that voice.

_Link._

That's who he had been praying for, Sheik realised. He almost cried in relief. Link was here. Link, the one who had freed him from his hellish prison once, had come back for him. He had come back for _him._

Sheik was glad that his face was covered, he didn't want anyone to see his tears.

\----------------------------------------

Link had paused at a crossroads, debating which direction to head in, when he had spotted Kino on the road. The Sheikah was riding full pelt towards him, screaming Link's name at the top of his voice. Link waved in greeting, offering a smile to his newfound friend. The smile fell as the sheikah's terrified face came into view, Link found his hand dropping weakly in worry.

"What's happened?" He asked, as soon as the other man was in earshot.

There were only a few terse sentences exchanged, before both men were thundering back along the road to Kakariko village.

Link rarely acted in anger, but if asked he would swear that a demon overtook him that afternoon as he dismounted and pushed passed the crowd of villagers in the centre of the town. Kino had explained as best as he could as they rode, and what he had been told filled Link with a rage he had never felt before.

He stopped cold when he observed the spectacle taking place in the town-centre. At first he didn't recognise the Yiga, he was sure he had stumbled onto some misunderstanding - a play - surely? Only theatrics could explain why the man he had left here was trussed up and bloody, and once again wearing a god-awful inhuman contraption on his face.

When asked later, Link would explain that he couldn't remember yelling, couldn't remember pushing the bodies in his way to the ground and he certainly couldn't remember punching the Sheikah standing above Sheik with a goddess-forsaken _whip_ in the face with such force the man was launched backwards six feet. He couldn't remember being swarmed by the remaining guards which he fought off with inhuman strength. All he could remember was the feeling of red hot anger, it seemed to possess him to such an extent that onlookers swore they saw in him some sort of godly being. Parents would pass on stories to their children of how the Champion of Hyrule singlehandedly wasted every able-bodied member of the Sheikah clan, how he stood there - as wild as the wind and with a rage as red-hot as the deepest pits of death mountain. They would go on to say how ashamed they then felt, as he picked up the bloody mess of a man he had defended with the care a mother would give to a new born child.

"This isn't right!" Link yelled, Sheik was a dead weight in his arms. He turned to Impa's hut - meeting the gaze of the clan leader. She looked old, frightened, and chastised. He shifted the unresponsive body, trying not to grimace as he noted his hands were now covered with thick blood. "You told me my purpose is to save Hyrule's people." Link screamed, his voice reaching levels of hysteria. "If this is what Hyrule's people are capable of, then I'm not sure you deserve to be saved."

Impa sank to the floor, suddenly aging a hundred more years. Link didn't notice, he had already turned back towards the exit of the village, the crowd silently parting as he passed. He nodded to one Sheikah, thanking Kino silently.

And then they left. 


	16. Hateno, Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slow chapter in which not a great deal happens. <3

Kakariko was five miles behind him when Link finally pulled Riza into a halt. The road before them was open and empty - in the distance he could make out the Kakariko bridge, and, further still, the dark outline of the Duelling Peaks stable. It was only here that Link allowed himself to think, allowed himself to let go of the swell of emotion that had kept him single-mindedly riding. Anger stirred in his gut, it burned like hot coals in his stomach, threatening to surge within him. And then allowed himself to finally look at the thankfully unconscious figure before him and the anger soured into something more sinister. _Guilt._

Sheik was motionless, the only indication that he wasn't dead was the slow rise and fall of his chest. Link was thankful that this was the case, he didn't think he could bare to be in the Yiga's presence if he was writhing in pain. Sheik was bare chested, his back a roadmap of bloody raised welts and one long open wound that had tore through flesh and into muscle. It would need tended. The most pressing matter however, was the damned contraption covering the Yiga's face. What had Impa been thinking? Link couldn't begin to fathom what must have crossed the Sheikah leader's mind, the most important thing he could do now was reverse it.

The Sheikah slate was thankfully fully charged, and Link set about using it's magic to release the lock for the second time. It felt different this time, the mechanism was new moved easily. Link was almost insulted at how quickly the click came this time, and joyously the straps instantly loosened and fell away, revealing the bruised face of the man within. Link winced in sympathy. One side of Sheik's jaw hung lower than the other, broken, whilst the once pale skin was purple and swollen. He now sported two black eyes, a thick lip and one eyelid was so swollen Link imagined Sheik would be hard pressed to open it any time soon.

"Fuck." He hissed, shaking his head in dismay. He hadn't imagined this would happen. He knew the Sheikah weren't exactly thrilled with Sheik's past actions, but it didn't take a genius to realise the Yiga was only the hired help. Link had been sure he'd done the right thing, after all there were Sheikah in the village who had once been Yiga. "You're going to be the death of me." Link sighed, staring longingly into the wilderness. Times had once been simpler. There were heavy rain clouds forming in the east.

\-------

Maureen had been surprisingly calm when Link led her into his bedroom later that evening. He'd turned up at her door an hour after dark, soaked to the bone from the rain.

"I need your help." Was all that he said. It was her night off, she had looked forward to a slow evening before the fire with her family. She'd picked up her shawl and put on her boots immediately, recognising the quiet seriousness of her Hylian Champion. They didn't exchange any words as they trundled through the village, Link's stride was long and quick, and Maureen hurried to keep up without complaint.

The house was dark, Link hadn't even managed to stoke the fire. The bedroom was illuminated by a small lantern by the door, it's light was poor but even in the dimness Maureen could make out that there was a body on the bed.

At first, a horrible thought crossed her mind. Link had killed a man, and now he needed help to dispose of the body. But that was quickly quelled as she approached the bed and heard the laboured breathing from the would be corpse.

"What happened?" She finally asked, her gentle hands moving over the battered flesh, checking for what - she didn't even know. She was no healer.

"People happened." Link spat. "It was my fault."

Maureen stopped her hands, her heart stopped too. "What do you mean?" She asked, her usually sweet voice hard and terse. She dared not look back at the looming man standing behind her.

Link shook his head, sitting heavily down in the wooden chair by the door. "I... I left him somewhere I shouldn't. I thought they were _good_ people. I thought I was fighting the _bad_ people. Now I don't know what I'm doing."

Her heart started beating again, and a breath she didn't know she had been holding whooshed from her lips in a soft laugh. Maureen turned and was faced with the most miserable sight she had witnessed in a long time. The usually coy, confident, radiant Hero of Hyrule looked at her with such anguish that she felt her heart break for him. She remembered the long nights she had spent with him, listening to him talk after they had had their fun. He was spirited, and lost and confused behind the bravado. It had never been as clear as now.

Her Hero, her sweet Link who had slept for a hundred years only to be reborn again in a turbulent and angry world, only saw the world in the way he had been schooled to see it. In black and white, in good and evil, blessing and calamity.

She didn't say anything for a long time, instead she set about heating some water and tearing a towel for rags to clean the blood from the figure on the bed. It was a simple task, mindless.

"Even good people," she finally said, dipping a white rag into the steaming hot water, "harbour dark thoughts sometimes." She started at Sheik's forehead, wiping away the drying blood methodically. "And even those who are considered evil, may have some goodness inside of them." The white rag was quickly turning red with blood. "And those that are good but who have had bad things happen to them, are sometimes so taken they can do evil things. Does one evil deed make someone evil?" She asked, speaking more to herself than to Link. She dipped the towel into the water, watching with fascination as it darkened and swirled with blood.

"What about two evil deeds? Are they evil then? What if those evil deeds were done for a good reason? There's no one on this land who has never had a bad thought or done something they shouldn't. Leaving him with people who you thought were good, but who did an evil thing doesn't make you evil. It doesn't mean they are evil either."

She felt movement behind her, felt a pair of strong arms circle her waist and hold her tight. She smiled as the warmth of Link's body enveloped her for a moment, the weight of his chest resting on her back was crushing but wonderful. His breath was hot on the top of her head, and she heard him place a light kiss amongst her dark hair. And then the heat and the weight was gone, and the bittersweet moment was over.

Maureen watched as Link took one of the rags from the bedside, watched as he tenderly washed the flesh of whoever it was he had brought back. She smiled fondly, and sadly, as he forgot about her, lost in his work. Together they cleaned as much of the Yiga as they were able. Neither of them were particularly gifted at healing, but together they managed to bandage and splint what was needed.

It was the early hours of the morning before she left. She didn't ask Link to walk her home, didn't announce that she was leaving. She simply watched him as he sat by the bedside, his eyes tired and old but determined. She smiled as she covered her shoulders with her shawl, thinking to herself how much someone could grow in such a short space of time. How witnessing the harrowing extremes of human nature could stir life where there had once only been living.

Link didn't react as the door closed, didn't notice as he was left alone once again.

\---------

Link's eyes flew open and he was aware of two things. One was that it was mid morning, the sun was streaming through the window and the merry sounds of the townspeople busy with their day trickled into the room. The second was that there was the most awful sounds coming from the bed. It took him a moment to remember the events of the past twenty four hours, but they came to him like the blunt end of a Goron's fist when he noticed his guest writhing and moaning in the bed.

_"Sheik!"_ Link yelled, finding himself on his knees next to the bed. Sheik was bucking, his back arched and muscled rigid, he flailed like a man possessed. And the noise, it was as if the very bones beneath his skin was shifting and breaking and moving. His skin was moving, the bone and sinew pulsating and _cracking_ sickeningly. Every crack was accompanied with a cry, a gut wrenching painful cry that caused Link to flail his arms uselessly as he tried to help.

He settled for shushing, manically repeating "It's alright. There, there." As one would do to a cat struggling to birth kittens. "You're fine!" He whispered, picking up one of the least soiled rags and placing it on the Yiga's forehead. It was then that Sheik decided to open his eyes, the red irises fluttering open and regarding Link with a look of disdain that screamed " _really?"_

Flustered, Link dropped the washcloth, opting to hold Sheik down by the shoulder instead. It shifted violently beneath his fingers, crunching and moving until it clicked back into place. Link allowed himself to meet the Yiga's gaze again, Sheik's eyes were tired and pained - one of them was filled red with blood, a disturbing sight that caused Link to swallow nervously. Sheik blinked slowly, grimacing as his jaw violently jolted and snapped back into place. His muscles finally relaxed, and he flopped back onto the bedsheets with a groan, his eyes slipping closed again and his face softening into sleep.

Link allowed himself to breath normally again, sitting back on his haunches as he inspected the boy in front of him. Amazing, and it explained a few of the unanswered questions that Link had about his new friend.

"What are you?" Link asked, aware that he was receive no answer. But the question felt wrong on his lips, and he tried again. "What did they do to you?" Satisfied, he made his way back to his chair, suddenly exhausted.

\-------

It was dim and quiet when Sheik opened his eyes at last. He was acutely aware that he was alone, that he was inside. He felt his own hand raise to his face and, expecting the cold iron he was so very used to, found only warm flesh. Relieved, he allowed himself to take in his surroundings. He was on top of a bed, naked save a pair of shorts that he hadn't seen before, and every bone in his body ached. He sat up, hissing as the tight skin of his back stung, the bedsheets peeling away from the still open wound painfully. He opened his mouth wide, grimacing as his jaw cracked painfully - but it was otherwise intact. His lip was still swollen, and although he could once again see from his left eye it stung as if he had accidently poured perfume into it.

Overall, he felt as good as he thought he looked.

"Oh - you're awake!"

Sheik's head snapped to the door, momentarily surprised to see Link sta nding in the doorway with a steaming bowl in his hands. He looked haggard, his usually bright eyes were rimmed with dark circles and his smile was tense and forced. Sheik nodded in reply, watching the Hylian closely as he made his way towards the bed and sat down the bowl gingerly.

"I thought you might want a wash, I didn't know you would be awake. I was going to clean you up a bit more. I don't have to now thought, if you don't want me to. You can do it yourself. If you want. Although I dont know how you could reach your back. Unless you're good at that sort of thing. I can do it if you want. I don't mind." He was rambling, words tumbling from his pale lips uncontrollably.

Sheik had a decision to make, he watched Link in his own quiet way. There was a fierce, independent side of him that didn't want anything to do with the Champion, that wanted to run away. And then there was the side of him that saw how desperately _scared_ Link was. And Sheik had done that. Not purposely, however regardless he felt a little guilty. Thus he found himself nodding, feeling a strange welling in his stomach as Link smiled and beckoned for him to turn around.

The water was warm and soothing to his back, and Sheik sat obediently as Link babbled nonsense. Sheik wasn't listening, his mind was elsewhere.

"- hair. I can run you a bath if you feel up to it?" Sheik heard the question, and his thoughts dramatically snapped back into the room.

"A bath..?" He heard himself repeat. There was the sound of the rag hitting water, and then Link was stood in front of him, nodding enthusiastically.

"It won't take long to draw. I don't know how it works, but there's a tap that draws hot water. The hearth is lit as well, I'm making dinner. You can get cleaned up, if you want. And then we can eat."

Food was always an incentive for Sheik; he swung his legs over the side of the bed. They felt heavier than usual, his knee - no longer broken - was still swollen and the skin yellow. The thought of soaking his sore limbs was enticing. "Okay." He replied.

He didn't know why he was going along with it all - all he knew was that at this moment he knew nothing.

\-----

Sheik was asleep again. It was late into the night, and it had taken a few hours for the Yiga to bathe and eat. Link had provided him with some fresh clothes, a pair of brown linen trousers and a pale blue shirt. They had been too big of course, but Sheik didn't seem to mind. Link had taken the time while his guest was freshening up to change the sheets on the bed. They were saturated in blood in places, stains that Link doubted would shift easily. He'd left Sheik alone to wash, stopping what he was doing every now and again to listen for movement. He didn't want to admit it, but he was fearful that he would blink and Sheik would be gone.

But Sheik had stayed, and they had spent some time together eating dinner. Sheik had been cautious at first, sniffing the fish suspiciously before taking a tentative bite. Link's face had reddened, and he hastened to reassure Sheik that he hadn't added anything to make him sleep, not this time.

"We can swap, if that'll make you feel better!" He added, offering his own bowl. Sheik shook his head, his eyes accusing as he ate his own portion.

By the end of the meal they were both yawning, the adrenaline that had kept Link going had run its course - he rubbed his eyes blearily as Sheik's shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

Link had insisted Sheik take the bed, rolling himself a bedroll in the main room. It didn't matter, he could have slept anywhere with house tired he was.

Tired, and relieved. Even has exhausted as he was, he waited until he heard Sheik's breath even out, waited until he was sure the Yiga was asleep. Only then did he allow himself a moment to rest, feeling euphoric as he finally closed his eyes, heard himself praying as his thoughts disjointed and he was overcome with sleep.

"Please let him still be here in the morning." He heard himself pray.


	17. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy <3

It was an hour after dawn when Sheik felt himself awaken. It was a strange feeling, waking of his own accord simply because he had slept enough, swaddled in thick blankets and so utterly at peace. The room was quiet and cool above the covers, outside he could hear birdsong and the faint, distant noises of farmers at work. There was the sound of moving water near by, a river or such. Suddenly he was incredibly thirsty.

Sheik stood from the covers, still dressed simply in the thin cottons, shivering as the cold air graced his warm skin. He was still stiff and sore, the majority of his bones had mostly healed. It was always bones that were first to heal, if you could call it that. It was convenience. Sheik could still work and fight if he was gutted, missing a kidney or disembowelled (he shuddered, neither of those experiences had been pleasant) but broken bones were cumbersome and in some cases debilitating. That, he theorised, was why they so quickly and violently knitted back into place. But it was painful, even more so sometimes than the initial injury. Today, he was still tender. His back felt better, as did his face, he was sure that if he looked in a mirror he would find some of the swelling would have disappeared. Good. It was annoying.

A loud snore startled the Yiga, before he was aware of his reactions he found himself arming himself - he had picked up the first object he could reach. Sheik's heart took twenty full, furious beats before it resumed its normal rhythm, and suddenly he felt stupid, standing in the middle of a bedroom armed with only a hair brush.

Link was in the next room. _Link snored._ For some reason Sheik found that amusing, and he smiled to himself as he placed his chosen weapon back down on the bedside table.

He was still thirsty, and now that he was awake he was restless.

Why he chose to exit through the window, he didn't really know. All Sheik knew was that he wasn't up for speaking to the Hylian just yet. He had had quite enough of them lately, and now he wanted to be on his own. Even just for a moment. He wanted to choose to be on his own, and so he did.

Sheik found himself climbing, carefully, down the embankment beneath the bridge. He had spotted a small outcrop into the water that he wanted to sit down on. The path became steep quickly, and Sheik found himself sliding rather than climbing down to the water. Successful, he knelt down on his knees, hissing as his once shattered knee screamed in protest. It didn't matter, from this position he could dip his head close to the fresh, clean water and drink to his hearts content. It was bliss.

Once he had drank his fill, he spent the next short while washing. He had bathed the night before, but he still felt grimy and disgusting. He couldn't remember the last time in the hideout he had been allowed to bathe properly. His personal hygiene was never the clan's concern. His hair was a stringy, overgrown mess. Although he was always thankful that, just like his nails, his hair only ever grew to a certain length and stopped. He shuddered to think what he would look like, if his hair and nails grew at a normal rate. He decided a quick rebraid would suffice for now, wetting and combing the hair as best as he could, until he was able to properly trim and cut it.

Once he was finished, Sheik considered climbing back up to the house, but the sun was starting move onto his rock, and the peace and quiet lulled him to stay put.

It was here, some hours later, that Link found him.

"Breakfast?" Link called from the bridge, grinning in his good natured way as Sheik startled from his stupor and looked up. He was pleased when the Yiga nodded and he watched in awe as Sheik scaled the cliff with ease, his movements as light and surefooted as a cat's.

Link wasn't going to let on that he had spent the last twenty five minutes searching for his once-prisoner-now-guest. He had woken in a panic, realising he couldn't hear anything from the next room, and had been thoroughly convinced that Sheik had left for good. He wouldn't have even been able to blame him, as poor treated as he was. His heart had soared when by chance, he had spotted him by the water, the sun reflecting brilliantly off of his white blonde hair.

Link gave the other man an appreciative look, humming in satisfaction as he noted the bruising had almost all gone. Sheik still looked wild, with the dark rings around his eyes and the one eyeball that's red iris was still haloed with a thick ring of blood. The whites of both his eyes were still blood shot, giving him a manic, menacing vibe. In all, he looked better. In fact, he almost looked good. Sheik's face was angular, sharp and _handsome_. Link hadn't really noticed it before, hadn't really looked past the murderous assassin part, but now that he actually looked Link could imagine that at one point, Sheik had been (dare he say it?) pretty damn good looking. Now, however, his eyes were hard and untrusting, his mouth set in a tight, permanent grimace and although he looked no older physically than his early twenties, his persona was ancient.

"Hungry?" Link asked, nodding his head towards the village. "The tavern does a good breakfast - I don't have much in to cook. And anyway, I think we deserve a lazy day."

Sheik regarded Link quietly, his brows knitting together as he contemplated the question. Finally, he nodded, deciding that he was indeed hungry. He was perpetually hungry, he had simply learned to ignore the pangs of hunger.

Pleased with the answer, Link hummed happily and made his way back into the house with Sheik following closely. They dressed, Link throwing Sheik his boots and he himself pulling on his blue Champions tunic. He felt strangely giddy as they made there way into Hateno.

The Tavern was quiet, breakfast was almost over. The delicious aroma of sausage and ham filled the small room as Sheik and Link found a table. They were approached by Madam Madrid, the middle aged busty barkeep. She scowled when she recognised Link. Her lips tensed, her eyes growing dark. Link coughed uncomfortably.

"What can I get you boys." She finally asked, crossing her arms sternly.

"Ma'am -" Link greeted, smiling, suddenly shy.

"Don't ma'am me." She snapped, "Lily was broken hearted for weeks. You didn't say goodbye, you didn't write."

"Ah - sorry -"

"And then you've been bumping with her cousin and -"

"Two breakfasts!" Link interrupted, his voice high pitched. "And two apple ciders."

Madrid scowled at the interruption, but huffed and left with their order.

Sheik sat back in his chair, fixing Link with a disapproving gaze.

"Yeah..." Link admitted, rubbing the back of his head guiltily. "Long story."

\----

Breakfast was, thankfully, uneventful - but it left Sheik feeling satisfied and full. Link had kept up a one sided conversation, commenting on the food, the weather, the drink or the people that visited the Tavern while they ate. Although Link did all the talking, he didn't mind. The silence wasn't awkward, and he was aware that although a silent participant, Sheik was listening to every word. They left Madrid a sizable tip, ambling out of the Tavern and into the midmorning street where residents of the small town tipped their hats to their hero and gave enthusiastic greetings as the two men made their way back towards Link's house.

"What do you want to do?" Link asked, kicking off his boots at the door and turning to Sheik expectantly. Sheik's eyes widened, bewildered. What did he want to do? What _did_ he want to do.

He didn't know, and so he shrugged apologetically. Link nodded in understanding.

"You should take it easy. Have a nap. I'm always sleepy after a good meal." He yawned as if to prove his point.

Sleeping sounded to Sheik like a waste of time. But it was at least his time to waste. Despite his reservations, he found himself nodding, backing away from the Champion towards the safety of the bedroom once again.

"Sheik? You've barely said a word today. Are you alright?" He heard Link ask, just as he crossed the threshold into the other room. Sheik paused, not sure how to answer.

"I'm not sure." He finally replied, after far too long a pause. His voice was hoarse, and he frowned at how weak it sounded. He heard movement behind him, and suddenly Link was close by, just out of arms reach. Sheik startled, taking a step back at the sudden intrusion. He instantly regretted his action, as Link's face went from worried to guilty in less than a heartbeat. The sudden deflation in his demeanour made Sheik uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." Link said, sounding miserable. "I didn't mean to frighten you." He paused, his brow knitting together in thought - and then like a sudden ray of sunshine his face brightened and Sheik felt as if the world had just became a little lighter.

"I have an idea." Link announced slyly, seeming to grow a foot taller. "We had a shitty start, you know - with you stalking me and then trying to kill me, me besting you _twice_ and then you know - other stuff." Sheik snorted, folding his arms dubiously.

"You got lucky, and then you cheated." He found himself replying, taking himself aback with the amount of injustice he was suddenly feeling.

"Aha - yeah. Whatever, you sore loser." Link's grin gave away the fact he was talking in jest, Sheik found it impossible to stay outraged. "The point is - we're here now. So let's start again."

Perplexed, Sheik watched as Link inhaled deeply - watched as the tall and strapping Hylian made a decision and sealed it with a smile. Sheik raised his brow in question as Link extended a mammoth sized hand in his direction, thrusting the appendage towards Sheik with such enthusiasm that Sheik was surprised he hadn't torn a ligament.

"Hello. Nice to meet you, my name is Link!" He cried, grinning from ear to ear.

Sheik felt his jaw drop, he tried to school the look of disbelief and bewilderment but he was too late and his heart sank as he saw Link's delighted gaze start to fall, saw the bright blue eyes start to sadden as he was left standing with his hand extended. It was a surprise to Sheik when he, seemingly involuntarily, extended his own slender hand. Link's hand was warm, and firm and strong and Sheik felt his cheeks redden.

"My name is... Sheik." He replied, feeling his heart return to beat at it's usual vigour as the Hylian Champion's eyes lit up once again and Link's smile return to its full ferocity. Link laughed, the sound seeming to fill the room like birdsong.

"Enjoy your nap - Sheik." The Hylian said, releasing the hostage hand and returning with a spring in his step back into the main room of the house, leaving Sheik standing, still stunned.

The Yiga (ex) blinked, looking down at his hand that had been just a moment before enveloped in that warm grip. His fingers, bruised still, tingled - but surprisingly not from pain. It was perplexing, and far too much for Sheik to fathom. So instead he did as was suggested, and perhaps even more surprisingly - found himself slipping into sleep far more easily than he could ever have imagined.

\--------

A simple nap turned into a five hour deep sleep, and Sheik awoke feeling groggy but better. A quick inspection found the skin on his back nicely healed, and he no longer looked quite like a racoon as the black rings around his eyes were fading quickly. His knee was still painful, but it was no longer jarring.

Link was sitting at the table when Sheik emerged, and he greeted his guest with his usual good natured smile.

They ate, and Link continued with his one sided conversation. Maureen had visited to check on Sheik, and had kindly left him some of her brother's clothes to wear, clothes that were more hardwearing and suitable for travelling.

"Speaking of such." Link began, placing down his utensils nervously. "Will you come with me?"

"Come.. With you?" Sheik repeated.

"I'm heading out tomorrow. I need to finish what I've started. I wouldn't mind some company, if you'd be willing."

Sheik considered it for a moment, and the found himself nodding. "Okay."

The answer pleased Link, if the impossible brightening of his smile was of any indication.

"Great. I'm glad."

\----------

It was past midnight, and Sheik found himself once again outside - his head whirring with the days events. He felt strange. Everything felt strange, like he had just woken from a vivid dream and he was trying to distinguish reality from his imagination - as if he was trying to piece together the story of a life that wasn't his, and made no sense.

Sheik was snapped from his thoughts by a familiar cracking sound. He stood, his shoulders tense. He was unarmed, but that didn't mean he was defenceless.

He recognised instantly the short, rotund figure at the other side of the pond. Dumpry.

So, the Clan knew where he was - they had followed but hadn't intervened. Sheik felt a slow anger boil at the base of his stomach.

"Our Master is pleased you are still alive." Dumpry announced, his tone was to the point. "Your mission has changed. You are to befriend the Champion, and lead him to us for capture."

_No._

Sheik turned his back to the red clad Yiga, taking a step towards the house.

"Our Master has said you are welcome back with open arms, he never liked Yano anyway. No one did. You did him a favour." Sheik paused, mildly disgusted Dumpry was still talking to him. "Don't fail us again."

The door closed quietly, shutting out the cool night air and cancelling out any of the outside noise like a vacuum. The main room was silent, save the gentle snores of the blonde Hylian who was still relegated to a bedroll by the hearth. Sheik paused and regarded the other man silently, willing his heart to return to a steady rhythm.

Confused and conflicted, Sheik didn't sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o 
> 
> As always - thank you for all the lovely reviews and Kudos! Mucho appreciated <3 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	18. Rememberance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is a scene in here which depicts torture of a minor, if you don't wish to read it then skip on by the section in italics.

Link woke suddenly - his heart beating heavily in his chest and his eyes wide and staring at the beams in the ceiling. It was how he always awoke - jostled out of a dreamless sleep by the sudden feeling that he was being chased. If only he could remember by what.

He groaned as he sat up, every muscle in his body protesting at yet another night spent on a hard surface. He was assaulted with the sounds of his joints cracking and creaking painfully, his shoulders and neck stiff and back aching from lying on the cold floor. Link spent a full thirty seconds rubbing his heavy eyelids awake, reluctant to open them again to the daylight. Blearily they opened and Link was met with a pair of blood red eyes and their owner sitting cross legged not even three feet away.

Startled, Link swore. Hi heart thumped loudly in his chest and he found himself exclaiming louder than he intended :

"By Hylia! Way to scare a guy!"

Sheik's expression was, as always, impassive, although Link could have sworn that a corner of the Yiga's mouth twitched.

"How long have you been sitting there?!" Link asked, clumsily climbing to his feet. His back clicked painfully, and Link winced. There was no answer, just that long, impassive stare. "Words, Sheik." The Hylian reminded.

Sheik seemed startled himself, and his cheeks coloured slightly in embarrassment. He needed to remind himself that he could speak, if he wanted to. "Oh. A while. I didn't have anything to do. I was waiting."

"For me to get up?"

Sheik nodded, climbing to his own feet. They stood face to face, Link a head taller than the Yiga. Where he was brawn, Sheik was - at the moment - more _scrawny._ Although Link could appreciate that those lithe arms and limbs packed a hell of a strength. He still sported bruises from their first encounter, although thankfully they were in places that weren't visible. Still, Sheik's frame was slighter than was comfortable, beneath the baggy shirt and trousers Link knew there were the outlines of ribs and bones and stretched, pale, greying skin that was _hungry._

"Breakfast?" Link found himself asking, aware that he was almost lost in his own thoughts. Almost shyly, Sheik nodded - and then caught himself in his silence.

"Yes." He answered, Link saw the pinched, tense lines in the Yiga's face relax slightly, relived.

"I don't have much - I need to stock up before we hit the road again. We need to talk about that. There's a lot we need to talk about."

Sheik's face was suddenly panic stricken and Link hastened to add, "But not today. Today we have breakfast, and then we can talk as we ride. I'm hungry, conversation shouldn't happen on an empty stomach."

They had a simple meal of bread and preserve, a thick sweet jelly like substance that tasted strongly of berries. Link enjoyed the sweet treat, he always had a feeling of nostalgia while eating it, as if it was somehow related to a happy place in his life that he couldn't remember.

Maureen met them after breakfast, wringing her hands sadly as she watched Link pack the supplies she had brought them onto his horse. She had gasped when she saw Sheik, her eyes widened in wonder as she took in the face that she had last seen bloody and beaten. In the space of two days, he looked normal again - healed. Although his movement told a different story, he was still walking stiffly, dragging his leg slightly and his once seemingly destroyed eye was still more bloodshot than the other. But for now he looked _normal_ , well, as normal as any male with red eyes could look.

"You'll come back to me? To us?" She asked, passing them a basket of bread that she had baked herself. Her eyes were pleading and worried. Link felt touched at that moment.

Since he had woken, he had only every felt like a passer-by, a weary wanderer. Like he was simply moving from place to place, taking what he needed, or what he thought he needed and trundling on when he was finished towards his next task.

Maureen had at one time, been one of those next tasks, and here she was - genuinely worried for his wellbeing.

He smiled, taking the basket from her gingerly. "I'll pass by again - I always do." He laughed, although there was no mocking and in reality, there was little conviction behind it. His laugh was empty, hollow. Truth be told, Link had no idea if he would every revisit anywhere, ever.

Sheik regarded them both, thinking mutely that there was something sad about this scene, but he couldn't quite figure out what. He took an offered hand, and with a grunt felt himself being pulled onto the back of the bay mare. It was a change from how he had ridden with Link previously. Today he wasn't trussed up, he felt as if for once, it was his choice.

_Nothing binds me to this._ Sheik said to him self, over and over as he straddled the Hylian before him. He promised himself that if he were to keep repeating this mantra, he may start to believe it. His night time encounter with the Yiga still played on his mind, and the thought that if something felt too good to be true, it usually was, caused Sheik to keep his guard up - even now. For now, he was fed, washed and directionless and quite ready to see where the path was going to take him - at least initially. He knew that Link wanted answers, understood that it was the Champion's _manners_ that kept him from prying into the finer points of Sheik's extended life - but he also knew that curiosity would overcome him and when it did Sheik wouldn't be able to answer him fully.

"You ready?" Link's voice snapped Sheik from his thoughts and he blinked rapidly - suddenly aware of the morning sun blinding him.

"Yes." Sheik found himself answering.

"It's a good few days ride to the start of the desert-" Sheik's heart stopped, he hated the desert - "but i've got an idea that could shave off a day or so."

"An idea." Sheik repeated, dryly. He didn't mean for his voice to sound so cynical, and the tone surprised him. Link didn't seem to mind. He turned his head so that Sheik could see his grin, it was full of mischief.

"A _crazy_ idea that I hope will work."

He didn't quite know what to think of that. Sheik had done a fair few crazy things in his life, but he had an inkling that his crazy and Link's crazy were different. He tried to school his expression, but by the widening of Link's grin he guessed he hadn't been successful.

"Crazy... Or stupid?"

Link had the audacity to look offended. "It's a brilliant idea. You'll see."

\----------------

They rode in silence for a few hours. They had left Maureen at the town border, she had waved sadly as they disappeared into the valley, her pretty form shrinking smaller and smaller as Riza picked up pace and carried the two men away from the town.

Link didn't mind the silence, it was a familiar absence of sound to him. And Sheik didn't mind the silence either, although his was usually involuntary.

As they neared the Kakariko junction, Link pulled Riza into a walk - she snorted indignantly as if offended at the change of pace.

Link felt the man behind him stiffen, and he let out a breathe he hadn't realised he had been holding.

"Relax." He found himself soothing, "Nothing heavy today. I just want you to clear some things up for me."

Sheik hesitated, but nodded. He then realised that Link's back was to him, so he replied, "I'll try."

Link turned in the saddle, lowering the reins to allow Riza to follow the path herself.

"Are you human?" He asked, mentally smacking himself. He had promised that wouldn't be the first question - although it had been the one that most played on the Hylian's mind.

Sheik found himself smiling, although there was no humour in it - if anything it was a little sad. "I think so. I was - once. I think I still am." His eyes became faraway, as if replaying a scene over in his head. He knew that it was inevitable the question would be asked - but it was on the long list of ones that he knew he couldn't fully answer. 

"The Sheikah," Sheik's gaze returned to the present at Link's words, "implied you had been - _harrassing -_ them for a long time. How long is long?"

Sheik found himself letting out a long, and wistful sigh. With it, Link could have sworn he aged before his eyes. The long blonde hair which was braided neatly and hanging over his shoulder, seemed to wither and whiten - and the pale skin around Sheik's eyes seemed to darken and sag. In an instant, Link could have sworn Sheik looked as old as the shrivelled, decimated monks that guarded the spirit orbs on his quest. He blinked, and in that instant Sheik was Sheik again - looking as youthful and tired as ever.

"I'm not sure." Sheik answered, his voice croaking, troubled. "Long enough to remember a Hyrule different from this. I've seen it bigger, smaller, divided and different." He left it at that, unwilling to delve too deep.

The answer didn't trouble Link nearly as much as it troubled Sheik.

"Well," he started brightly, Sheik marvelled at how the Hylian's face could suddenly change from sombre to bright in a fraction of an instant, "You look good for you age."

Sheik blinked, pondering the Champion's words for a moment. And then, in a motion that hurt his chest, he threw back his head and laughed, his shoulders shaking from the unusual movement. With every strangled sound (it sounded foreign from Sheik's lips) waves upon waves of tiredness seemed to dissipate, and Link found himself smiling at the youthful Yiga with his lopsided grin.

Finally Sheik stopped laughing, much to Link's disappointment, and he wiped a stray tear from one of his still slightly bruised eyes.

"You're meant to say "you too" Sheik." Link teased.

"You want me to say you look good for you age?"

"Yes. I'm over a hundred years old, and barely a wrinkle."

The pale haired boy chuckled, straightening in the saddle until his back cracked. He seemed to have grown taller and sat a little straighter.

"Then - 'you too.' If it'll stop your bragging."

"It will. For a while."

\-----------

It was past noon, the sun was hot in the cloudless sky. They had rode non-stop, Link had stopped asking personal questions and Sheik was content to listen to him commenting endlessly on the scenery. In the distance, the Duelling Peaks loomed, ominous and shimmering the heat.

"I need to stable Riza, and then I'll share with you my cunning and brilliant plan." Link announced as the comical horses head came into view.

"You're heading to the Desert." Sheik stated, his brow furrowing in distaste. The Desert was the last place Sheik wanted to go to, especially after Dumphry's unannounced visit the night before.

"Yes. Three down, one divine beast to conquer. I'm getting so close to the end I can almost smell it."

"And you plan on taking me with you."

Riza grunted in annoyance as she was rudely pulled to a halt.

"Yes." Link admitted, turning into the saddle to face Sheik. He looked a little guilty. "I had planned to. But you can leave, if you want to. I won't stop you."

"Just a few days ago I was trying to kill you."

Link cocked his head thoughtfully. "Yes," he admitted, "but I don't think you are now. Why _were_ you trying to kill me, anyway?"

"Nothing personal."

"Orders were orders, I suppose. I was apparently a good soldier once, I understand. I think." Link huffed as he dismounted, stretching languidly and sighing in relief as his joints popped.

_Yes. A good soldier. I was that._

Before he could stop himself, and unaware that he was standing on the ground, staring into space, Sheik found himself thrown back into a memory he hadn't thought about in a long time, the sudden dissociation between reality and his mind threw him, and in an instant he was so immersed that he was blind and deaf to the real world around him.

\---Skip this part if you wish!-----

_"End her."_

_The order was hard and emotionless, the sound vibrating off of the stone walls in a deafening echo._

_The "her" was a girl, no older than six. She was red faced, crying, her tiny hands clenched so hard into fists her knuckles were white. Her red eyes were open wide, unbelieving and so very terrified._

_"_ _Cadê minha mãe?_ _" She cried in Sheikah, her small voice strangled and choked with tears. "Where's my mama?!"_

_Sheik ignored her, turning his head -_ in his memory his face was free, a testament to how far back this scene sat in his memory - _to look at his then Master. He was white haired, dressed in blue and white. Like Sheik, his eyes were red. He wore a typical Sheikah battle suit, although his tabard was intentionally smeared with blood to cover the Sheikah eye._

_"Do it now - Sheik." His Master barked, raising his heavy fist to connect with Sheik's skull. The blow was heavy, but not enough to disable him. Still, it sent him stumbling forward towards the child, who shrieked and scooted backwards in terror._

_Sheik turned his attention back to the waif, dressed only in her nightclothes and barefooted. She was thin, rosy cheeked and otherwise healthy. Still, he hesitated._

_"She's only a child."_

_"Poravor, minha mãe. Poravor. Mama. Poravor. Please. Mama! Cad_ _ê_ _?" Her calls were now repetitive, hysteric. Her breaths were hitched and panicked, wide eyes searching Sheik's face for mercy._

_"I won't order you again, do it."_

_His own hands were clenched into fists now, he could feel his palms prick and bleed as his nails dug bloody trenches into his skin._

_"No."_

_There was a crack, and a scream. The little girl was now howling, holding her knee which was sickeningly facing inwards._

_"Your disobedience means she will now suffer, and you will watch." Another crack, although this this Sheik felt it against his own back. The girl was still crying, screaming at such a volume his ears were ringing. "Obey, Sheik."_

_He watched as his Master drew his knife, a wicked curved blade that Sheik had cleaned that very morning. The tip ended in a hook, and Sheik knew that it was his Master's favourite blade for his favourite activity - separating flesh from bone._

_He could feel his stomach turn, could feel the empty sickness churn painfully in his gut. Her screams were maddening, and he knew his indecision, his_ **_disobedience_ ** _would cause her more pain._

_Sheik did as he was ordered, ending her suffering in a second, and later, when his Master had banished him to his room, the cold blackness of his cave, he wept._

_\--It's safe to read agin!--_

"Sheik?"

A hand on his shoulder threw Sheik violently from his memories and back into reality. It was bright, so bright in fact Sheik's eyes were wet from the blinding sun.

"Earth to Sheik - are you alright?" Link asked, his voice laced with worry.

"Yes." Sheik found himself answering, still teetering on the edge of remembrance. He couldn't remember the last time he had thought about that moment. It made him sick. He shook his head violently, as if to shake the fragmented images from his mind. He found himself breathing hard through his nose, could feel his cheeks redden with the exertion. "I'm alright." He sounded unconvincing, and as such Link was unconvinced, although whether it was from pity or not, he chose to let the matter drop.

Link smiled, uneasily, letting go of Sheik's shoulder almost reluctantly. "Okay then, if you're sure." Sheik wasn't sure, but he was thankful to move on. It happened again, Link's face brightened into a beaming smile and the icy coldness that had enveloped Sheik's gut warmed all of a sudden, so much so he felt the corners of his mouth tug into a small smile in response.

"You ready to hear my crazy plan?"

"Crazy... Or stupid?"

It turned out that Link's plan was a little of both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't dead - just stupidly busy! The next chapter will be posted sooner than the seemingly mammoth wait for this one! Promise!


	19. Impulse

"No." 

"Oh come on! It'll be fine!" 

"It's madness." 

"I've done it loads of times, it'll be fine." 

"You're mad."

Link sighed in resignation, his hands on his hips. He allowed his head to drop forward, his lower lip quivering in fake rejection. He had spent the last twenty five minutes trying to convince Sheik of his plan, every moment had been in vain. He wasn't sure which part exactly Sheik didn't agree with, he was perfectly convinced that the Sheikah slate could probably, more than likely, certainly transport two people at once. After all, there had been one harrowing moment where Link had been attacked, mid-teleport and he reappeared with the detached, gory arm still spasming and clinging onto his bicep. It had been disgusting, but it was proof enough in his eyes. 

"I'm not mad, I'm sure it will work." He was resigned to whinging now, his voice had reached the tone of petulant child, he was well aware of how pathetic he was beginning to sound. "And besides, the slate is fully charged - it's got enough juice to do the trip." 

"And how can you guarantee we won't simply disintegrate and be lost to the wind? Have you every transported more than just yourself?"

"Well - not exactly - but -" 

"Then no. What's wrong with the road?" 

"But you Yiga can do your pop-bang-teleport thingy - why won't you try this?" 

Sheik opened his mouth to reply, but the words fell away before he could coherently form them. Pop-bang. He was speechless. 

"See? I've got a point, haven't I? Come on Sheik, let's try it. My backside is aching because I've been in the saddle for that long!" 

"And when we're up there - if we're up there -" Sheik hastily corrected, "How do you propose we get back down? The last time I checked, the plateau was raised at least two hundred feet off of the ground." 

"I know a way down. I promise, it'll be alright." 

Sheik wanted to believe him, he was almost taken in by the earnest, hopeful dumb look in the Hylian's face. Link was almost pouting, his eyes pleading and had Sheik not been faced with the prospect of disintegrating into space, he might had agreed. He had to admit, he didn't fancy three days monotonous riding. 

Sensing an opening, Link persevered, a tentative, wishful smile blooming onto his face like a daisy. "Trust me?" 

Sheik wanted to, he really did - but there was still an untrusting demon that whispered, deep in his gut, that he couldn't fully trust anyone. Not really. 

And then he felt his warmth across his palm as his hands were enveloped by the Champion's own bear paws. "I won't let anything happen to you." 

He wanted to believe it, he really did. 

Suddenly, Link's face erupted into a joyful grin, and Sheik felt his hands being squeezed impossibly tight. Sheik was bewildered, wondering bleakly what had given Link such a swift change in mood - until he realised his head was nodding dumbly, unconsciously agreeing with Link's plan. 

"Excellent! Give me half an our to barter for supplies, and then we'll try it!"

"Uh... Ok?" Sheik found himself calling to the Champion's retreating back. Apprehension and dread filled him, where a second ago he had somehow felt light and airy, now he felt as if his stomach was made of lead. Link said they would try. Try. As if their lives were worth gambling just to shave a few days off of a trip. 

And then they would head to the desert. Sheik wondered at that point, which thought filled him with dread more. 

\--------

"Alright!" Link announced, pushing Sheik's reluctant form onto the pedestal of the nearest shrine. 

"I'm still not sure about this." Sheik protested, watching nervously as Link programmed the slate, the tip of his tongue peeking out from his lips as he concentrated. 

"Relax, it'll be over before you know it." 

"Or not know it - if I don't materialise -" 

Link's grin faded, and he frowned at the smaller man in mock annoyance. Like an old hen maid he wagged his finger at the Yiga. "Stop fussing, your gloom is rubbing off on my good mood." 

Sheik closed his protesting mouth. He remembered the wrath of the Champion when he was mad, he still had a mark or two to prove it. 

"Now, I think we're ready. I can teleport to the towers, and the nearest one to where we need to go is on the Plateau. You ready?"

"Do I have a choice?" 

Link's eyes snapped up from the screen, his face suddenly serious. "Yes. You always have a choice. I won't make you go if you really don't want to." He replied monotonously, expression troubled. 

Sheik felt guilt creeping up his spine, he felt that he should be grateful to this man - one of the only people in a millennia to treat him almost normally. 

"Sorry." 

Link's smile returned, youthful and bright. He tilted his head, and with the sun behind him he looked almost godly, the sunbeams shining through his hair as if he was some sort of ethereal being with a pair of striking blue eyes. Sheik's mouth felt dry, and he swallowed thickly. 

"Ready?" 

Dumbly, Sheik nodded. Link joined him on the pedestal, pulling Sheik into the very centre of the circle. "Stand close." The Hylian ordered, pulling Sheik close into his chest and encompassing his shoulders with one arm. They stood stiffly together, Sheik breathing heavily with apprehension and Link fiddling arkwardly with the limited space with the Sheikah slate. 

"Okay. On three." There was a loud beeping sound. 

"One -" A whirring started, Sheik could hear the blood pumping loudly through his veins, a deafening roar in his ears that pounded in time with the solid thumps of his heart. 

"Two-" 

And suddenly they were weightless, watching themselves disintegrate into tens of millions of shining blue particles. Link disappeared first, and Sheik's eyes widened in panic as he realised half of his body was still floating, dismembered, as particles even as Link whooshed vertically into the sky. For one terrifying second, Sheik's fears came to fruition as he realised he was alone on the teleportation pad. The strangest sensation overcame him, as if he was being weighed and measured and deemed worthy or unworthy. Even though he was unsure of where his ears were, a roaring commenced so loudly he was deafened. And then he was flying, upwards, upwards, upwards until the land below him was whizzing away at such speed the trees and grass and water were blurs. He recognised lake Hylia, but before he could ponder it was gone, and he was rushing through the air at an impossible speed. He was flying faster than he had ever imagined possible, he was sure that if his gut wasn't a swirling mass of particles it would have been in knots.

He realised in those terrifying seconds that he hated heights. 

\---------

Link landed, alone, at the top of the Great Plateau tower. His head was disorientated, as it always was after he used the slate to travel. It was a strange sensation, to dematerialise in one place and then reassemble in another. There was always a moment of cognitive dissonance after a warp - his mind still use to the idea of being in one place while his body was in another. Link breathed deeply, closing his eyes against a sudden dizziness that he knew to be normal. When he opened them again, all was right in the world. The rolling plains of the great plateau were beneath where he stood, high up on the tower. From the balcony, he could see almost the whole of Hyrule. The sun was high in the sky, mid afternoon was awash with a warm, autumn heat. 

He was taken by the view for almost a full half minute, before he realised that he was alone. In a horrible, morbid instant the thought overcame him that Sheik had been right, that warping two people was impossible and now his new travelling companion was merely a spliced collection of dust, lost to the atmosphere. 

Calm down, he commanded himself, steeling the rapid beating in his chest, he was probably just left behind. But even that wasn't a comforting thought. The sheikah slate only ever had enough power to complete one trip, he would have to wait for it to recharge before he could warp back to the stables and check. It could take days for the slate to repower, and by that time Sheik would have probably left and Link would never see him again. 

For some reason, that thought hurt the most. 

The slate was cold in Link's hands, the normally bright screen was dark and refused to turn on. He spent an agonising few moments staring at the black screen, his mind in turmoil as Sheik's dismembered voice echoed "I told you so" mockingly in his head. Why had he insisted so hard to him to try this crazy, stupid, dangerous idea? All to shave a few days off what probably would have been a pleasant trip. 

Link's mouth was dry; clammy, cold beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and in the palms of his hand. He'd murdered Sheik. 

As that dark thought consumed him, blind and deaf to the world, consumed and dumfounded by his own sudden grief - Link was unaware of the commotion that was happening above him. Had he looked up, he would have seen the disjointed form of his companion swirling ten feet above his head. Had he listened, he might have heard the jumbled cries and curses as Sheik's disintegrated body warped and righted itself. Such was Link's mind lost, the only indication that anything was happening at all was when he was suddenly and violently flattened in a heap on the ground - the wind blasted from his lungs with a pained cry. 

Link came too after a minute, blinking away dust and debris as he wondered why he was flat on his stomach. There was a dead weight on top of him, he could feel it gasping, also winded. 

"What took you so long?" 

\----------

It took almost half an hour before Sheik stopped throwing Link dirty, betrayed looks. The Yiga was less than amused, and he wasn't shy in showing his displeasure on this occasion. 

"Oh come on Sheik, you have to admit - it was a little funny." 

Link supposed the frosty, menacing look was well deserved, and expected. Sheik's mouth was set in a firm grimace, and if eyes could kill Link would be a bleeding mess on the floor. It only made Link grin more. He had noticed how the Yiga could be so expressive with just a fleeting glare, honestly - he found it endearing. 

They had climbed together from the tower, leaping from platform to platform in an impromptu, unspoken race that Sheik almost won, had Link not taken the last two platforms in one bound, opening his glider at the last second so not to break his legs. Sheik only rolled his eyes, snorting at the Hylian in disdain as he crowed and preened like a prized cockerel at the base of the tower. 

Link wasn't sure why, but the great Plateau made him feel free - he hadn't realised how trapped he had been feeling until he stood gazing over the raised wilderness at the top of the tower. Perhaps it was because Calamity Ganon, the divine beasts, and all of the expectations of the people of Hyrule were behind him here - he couldn't exactly pinpoint his answer, but in his heart he felt it lay somewhere there. 

They had were climbing the stairs towards the ruins of the temple of time, Link a few strides ahead of the dutiful, following Yiga, when it started to rain. 

"Ah." Link exclaimed, throwing his arms out from his sides in disdain. "A rain shower. We should get to the temple and take shelter as soon as we can." 

"Afraid you will melt, oh great Champion of Hyrule?" Sheik asked, his bad mood filtering through his voice in a mocking taunt. He surprised himself with his bitter tone, and apparently he also surprised Link, who in a second went from looking hurt to grinning like a cat. 

"Well, well - so you do have some bite in you. I like that. No, Sheik -" the name rolled from his tongue like that of an old friend, it made the Yiga shiver, "- if you must know, I won't melt - but being caught in a storm is never fun and from the sound of it-" at the end of that syllable there was an almighty roar, the ground shook with the force from what felt like a far off explosion, suddenly the sunlight petered away as black cumulonimbus blocked out the sun. Link laughed, his hair and clothes suddenly drenched in the warm, violent downpour. "Come on!" He cried, turning towards the seemingly never ending stairs and sprinting up them with surprising speed, for a Hylian. 

Sheik, unwilling to be beaten again, took chase, taking the once grand steps two at a time - his legs hurt, and his chest burned, but if there was one advantage to being whatever it was he was, it was the fact he could ignore his pain and his breathlessness indefinitely, pushing his body past its limit whenever he needed to. He overtook Link near the entrance to the temple, just as the now dark sky lit up with flashes of lightening and rumbled with the sound of thunder. 

"Now we're even!" Link stated, between gasps. 

"I suppose we'll have to wait this out." Sheik replied, peering out into the courtyard distastefully. The air was thick and humid, and the storm - although a while away for now - felt hot and oppressing.

There was a hiss, and suddenly the main room of the temple, which was mostly watertight thankfully, was swathed in a warm light. Link had started a fire amongst the goddess statues, and now he stood in its eerie glow, surrounded by the praying statues, their faces forever raised in prayer and their stony eyes shining strangely in the firelight. Link shook his head like a dog, fat water droplets flying in every direction as he wrung out and twisted the golden locks until his hair hung about his head like the summer straw. And then he unbuttoned his cloak and did the same, hanging it over the face of one the devoted statues almost comically. 

Finally, in only his trousers and undershirt, Link flopped onto the floor by the fire, stretching his arms in front of him in order to pull as much of its heat into his damp skin as he could. Sheik found himself staring, and if Link noticed, he chose not to say. 

Link was finally joined by the fire, Sheik sat gracefully down on the other side of the campfire across from the Champion. He had shed his cloak, and wrung out the braid but was otherwise untouched. They sat for a few minutes, Link absently stoking the fire and adding wood until it was a roaring blaze. Finally, they made eye contact. Link nodded towards the temple entrance, where the storm was unrelenting. "For some reason, up here - the storms are worse." He finally said. "I woke up on the plateau, and I can't remember storms worse than the ones in my first few weeks awake." 

Sheik pondered his words carefully, following Links gaze to the torrential outdoors. 

"You know - this temple was once magnificent." He finally offered. "In all of the Hyrule I've seen, just little bits here and there - before this place was a plateau this building was once the centre of the kingdom." Sheik licked his lips, unsure if he should continue. He had never spoken about Hyrule's past before, had never been asked and had never been given the chance, as gagged and as caged as he had been. But now, now that he was free to speak, the words felt wrong - as if he shouldn't share them. 

"Oh? I can't remember Hyrule from before. You're lucky - to be able to remember it." 

Lucky. It wasn't a word Sheik would have used, lucky couldn't describe the life he had lived. "Maybe." He finally sighed, tossing a twig into the flames. It crisped almost immediately. "My point is, I think the storms are worse here because the land is weeping." 

He offered no more explanation, and truthfully he didn't need to. Both men lifted their gaze skyward, towards the largest of the statues, who seemed to fix them with her sad gaze. They both felt it was entirely plausible that someone, somewhere, wept for Hyrule. 

\---------------------------------------

The storm didn't let up until well into the evening, by which time both men were dry and comfortable. They had sat mostly in silence, listening to the storm rage on the seemingly impenetrable temple walls. Link had laid out the beds and blankets while Sheik had searched for more firewood, and by nightfall they were warm and dozing, the smell of baking apples filling the space between them deliciously. Link, reenergized by dinner, sat up and spoke to Sheik about some of his travels. He quizzed Sheik about the Zora's Domain, and was only slightly disappointed when Sheik had little to offer on that particular topic. 

"I was never really sent to the Domain," he said in way of explanation, "and the Zora really keep to themselves. Although, they use to not be able to survive out of water for very long - long ago." He offered. The titbit of information seemed enough, Link's eyes lit up and Sheik found himself relentlessly squeezed for information. 

And so they continued, well into the evening until Link finally stretched - claiming he was tired. The storm had long passed, but darkness had fallen and there was still the odd, stubborn shower of rain. 

"We'll continue in the morning." Link announced, pulling himself into his bedroll. "I'm beat - take the first watch?" He asked hopefully. 

Sheik rolled his eyes, he could hardly say no considering the Hero was already closing his eyes. "Yes." He answered, although Link wouldn't have been able to hear him over his obnoxious snoring. 

And so Sheik sat, lost in his thoughts - the fuel in the fire slowly being eaten away as the small hours of the morning approached. Through the holes in the roof, Sheik noted that the moon was full tonight - a spectacular sight. Had he been by himself, he would have climbed to the top of the temple to take a closer look. 

I'll still be in sight, won't I? He asked himself, climbing to his feet. It had been a long time since he had been able to simply enjoy the night sky. He strained his ears, all was silent. Surely a few minutes wouldn't hurt? A few moments of indulgence. Link was sound asleep, the firelight casting warm shadowing across his sleeping face. He wouldn't even notice. 

The tower of the temple provided a better view than Sheik could have imagined. He felt as if he could see forever. The cold air, fresh from the storm, was wonderful in his lungs. Small slurries of rain hit his flushed face, and he found himself climbing higher, and higher - no longer satisfied with simply gazing outward from the tower but suddenly in need to be as close as possible. He found himself climbing onto the very pinnacle of the temple, balancing like a bird on the spire. Sheik wanted to whoop in joy, for at this very moment, a moment he had taken by choice, he felt free. 

His gaze fell northwards, and in the distance he noticed the malicious shroud that writhed around what was once Hyrule castle. He felt as if it was laughing at him, and as quickly as it had come, his joyous feeling disappeared. The darkness, which had felt so light just a second ago - came crashing down around him. A cloud obscured his moon, and Sheik suddenly felt foolish.

And then he felt afraid, for his ears were suddenly ringing - his imagined ridicule was alive in his ears and along with it, was the howling of wolves. From below. In the temple. 

"Link!" He cried, his heart stopping in his chest. A second of indecisiveness, and then he descended as fast as he could, his head screaming at him for his foolishness. "Link!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun.


	20. Of all the evil

Link's eyes snapped open. There was only silence, and for a few fleeting moments he wondered what on this earth had awoken him. He was warm and comfortable, but for some reason his heart was pounding in his chest. There was something wrong, he felt _hunted_. A quick check, his companion was nowhere to be seen. But that wasn't what bothered him. A cool breeze caressed the inner temple, fresh and light after the humid storm. And sour. There was a terrible, deathly scent in the air. In an instant, every tuned muscle in his body had him standing - his sword already in his hand and eyes desperately trying to attune to the low light.

He heard it before he saw it, a low guttural snarl that was far too close for comfort. Something hot and big slammed into him, shoving him to the side and into the dying flames of the campfire. He was head over heels, his hand instinctively grabbing a fistful of hot ash as he spun. But in control, he was always in control. Regaining his balance, Link observed the beast that had joined him in the temple. Seven feet, or perhaps more, of hulking muscle, yellow-green eyes peering menacingly at him from the towering, terrifying face that resembled some sort of wolf beast. It stood on two legs, adding to its impossible height and stature. Patchy, mangy fur covered its almost human-like body and perhaps most worrisome of all, were the six-inch claws that jutted like knives from the end of each of the beasts massive paws.

Link took the beast in in an instant, wasting no time in throwing his handful of ash upwards into the monster's face. It flinched for a moment, but then lunged forward, its jaws wide open in an evil grin (Link couldn't help but notice the huge fangs and the rancid, repulsive breath as the beast surged forwards) as it covered the distance between them in a moment. The Master sword felt heavy and hot in his hand, as it always did when in the presence of pure evil. He thrust it fruitlessly forwards, feeling the resistance as the blade missed the thick hide by a hair’s breath. And then the beast was upon him, all claws and muscle and impossible speed, forcing the Champion to be almost as impossibly light on his feet. Another heavy blow sent him flying upwards, and by some dumb luck he found himself able to scramble atop one of the statues. The beast gleaned at him, its tongue hanging out of the side of its toothy mouth in some sort of mocking grin. There was a keen intelligence in the dead stare that it gave him, and for the first time in a while Link felt real fear stir in the base of his gut. 

The wolf beast crouched low, seeming to take a deep breath before standing back into its full, ghastly height and letting loose a terrifying, ear splittingly loud howl.

Link's eyes widened in terror and an imitating howl answered the beast in the not too far distance. And then another.

Of course, wolves hunted in _packs._

\---

Sheik dropped from the rafters like a bird - landing so lightly on the floor the dust beneath him barely stirred. He scoured the scene before him, noting the precarious position of the Hylian champion surrounded by three gigantic monsters that encroached on the precious little space Link had afforded himself.

_Wolfos_. The name of the beasts appeared in his head, whispered quietly, although Sheik was sure he couldn't ever remember seeing such horrific aberrations before. But the name fit, and with the name came the realisation that these were deadly, damned beasts.

Across the room, Link spotted the Yiga and although they were outnumbered and outsized, the sight of the Yiga brought him a little relief. But Sheik was unarmed, and although he was currently unnoticed by the beasts, he wasn't much help as he was. Link resisted the urge to call out, schooled the panic in his face as one of the beasts used pushed against the goddess statue, causing it to shake. The largest of the three beasts stood back from his brethren, his menacing green eyes calm as he observed Link scrabble further up the temple statue. It's ears, large and pointed atop its head, twitched as it stared intelligently into the Hero's face. And then impossibly, it followed Link's fleeting gaze behind it and turned with a ferocious snarl to Sheik, who had edged silently towards the discarded pack by the fire.

The colour drained from Link's face. In unison, all three beasts turned their back to him and settled their hungry gaze onto the Yiga.

"Sheik!" Link yelled, "the slate!"

Sheik, with all his torturous years behind him, understood in a second. The slate lay forgotten amongst the Hero's blanket, lights blinking quietly in the dim light. The problem lay with the fact the Hero's blanket lay directly between Sheik and the snarling beasts who were now aware of the newcomer. Sheik swore quietly under his breath, his red eyes darting from beast to beast to slate and back again in quick succession.

In his head he had few choices, he could attempt to retrieve the slate and with it supply the Hero with his weapon repertoire - he was sure his own weapons were stored within the slate as well as most of Link's belongings, he could abandon the idea of retrieving the slate and head upwards to relative safety, or he could run - leaving Link to his own fate.

His options were narrowing quickly, one of the beasts attempted to sidle around him, it's huge, muscled legs making short work of the distance. They were attempting to surround him, easily done in a confined space. The largest of the three, clearly the pack leader and the most intelligent, focused its gaze on Sheik with its fierce green eyes and took a mighty step forward in the direction, to Sheik's horror, of the slate. These were not mere beasts.

A low growl from behind him chose his option for him, and with a huff Sheik leapt forward - impossibly quick and light on his feet as always - towards the prized slate. The three beasts howled, as if in laughter, and the leader lunged forward as well. Sheik couldn't help but smile as a morbid, horrible thought entered his head as the distance between him and the wolf beast shortened. He had never been eaten, could he survive that? Would he simply regrow once nature had taken its course? The thought, strangely, tickled him in a sickening way, he shouldn't have found it amusing - but he couldn't help it, even as the rancid, hot breath of the wolfos left wet condensation on his neck; even as the air around him shook from the snapping of jaws that missed his jugular by a hair's width; even as he felt the cool, solid weight of the Sheikah slate firmly in his grasp as he rolled at the last instance to escape what would have been a major inconvenience had one of the beasts landed on top of him, a sick, psychotic chuckle fuelled by his adrenaline chittered in the back of his mind _. Not today._ He thought, righting himself back onto his two feet. He was dizzy, exhilarated as two of the beasts collided in screams of primal pain.

"Get up here!" Link commanded, he had climbed upwards to the rafters and was balanced precariously on an old wooden beam that would have once been a part of a balcony. Sheik made short work of joining him, using the smaller of the goddess statues as leaping stones, apologising mentally as he stepped on their saddened heads. "The slate." Link demanded, although not unkindly. Sheik nodded, handing over the prize obediently. "Bow?" Sheik shook his head, watching Link as the screen danced to his ministrations. Distractedly, Link nodded, as if he had already known the answer. "Sword then. Short. Punch knife. Here." As he spoke, the items appeared in the Champion's hands, materialising with the same blue aura that had teleported them to the plateau. Ancient Sheikah technology, through and through. Link thrust the items towards Sheik, securing the slate to his belt and hefting a fine, heavy crafted bow into his grasp. Sheik recognised it as the same one that Link had used to take him down not so long ago. He remembered the power behind those shots, how he had been thrown off course with a single arrow that packed so much force he swore he could still feel the throbbing deep in his muscle.

"Can you create some distance?" Link asked, again, his tone sharp and straight to the point. It made Sheik shudder; an unknown feeling coursed down his spine as he nodded at the Champion's words in awe. A sharp, fiery look from Link startled him, a red-hot flame boiled behind the Hero's eyes, fierce and angry, and the realisation that it was his own red eyes reflected back at him took Sheik's breath away. Thankfully, the anger and ferocity wasn't aimed at him. He'd experienced it before and wasn't inclined to be on the receiving end once again. "Let's show them a little pain."

Link watched the Yiga as his hands flexed around the hilt of the sword - a slightly curved, wicked blade - as he tested the weight of the iron. His own bow was heavy, the smooth limbs of wood warm in his grasp. They shared a knowing look, and then jumped in different directions, Link upwards to a higher beam and Sheik, by far the most agile of the two, falling to the ground like a cat. The wolves, who had been circling them like carrion, lunged towards their nimble prey, howling in frustration as Sheik darted between two of them before they could catch him. Sheik was fast; however his speed was nothing in comparison to the beast's in a flat our run. Outrunning them was probably not an option, not with their huge strides and massively, muscled limbs. His best bet, Sheik thought, was to keep making them turn, forcing them to slow and perhaps, with luck, collide as he traversed the length of the temple. He expected the three monsters to chase him, but a quick look behind him brought him to a sudden stop. The wolfos that had taken chase had stopped and gazed at him with that frightening intelligence unexpected from a dumb beast. His two companions, one of which overshadowed them all with his mass and muscle, turned their bored scrutiny back to the Champion, who in the unexpected turn of events, hesitated - his arrow notched and ready to fly.

Licking his fanged lips, one of the wolfos began to climb, heaving his huge body up upon the statues, reaching out with its long limbs, intently staring at the Champion as it ascended the ruins of the temple. Link let an arrow fly; his aim as true as always. It may have thrown a shred of straw, for all the Wolfos took notice. The arrow bounced off the Wolfos' forehead, clattering harmlessly to the stone floor. Link's stern gaze was replaced with surprise as he notched another arrow and let it fly once again, this time aiming for the shoulder. It sunk into the flesh with a dull thud - the creature barely flinched, so intent with its climb as it salivated and licked its terrible lips.

"Link -" Sheik yelled, running back towards the alter, "-up!" One of the nightmares turned to him as he encroached, hunching down into a monstrous snarl as it grinned with malice, every-inch-long yellowed tooth on display and its long, rabid tongue lolling wet with saliva, eyes mad with glee. It pounced as if Sheik was a toy, a ball for a puppy to play with, batting at the Yiga with its huge, clawed paw. It missed, turning its huge head to follow Sheik as he ducked at the last moment. The raised foot, however, caught him off guard and in a breathless, winded instant Sheik was flying ten foot high above the ground, impossibly spinning at a dizzying speed, the ground rotating from view and then very suddenly coming back into focus with a bang. He lay for a second, all the air battered from his lungs. Instinct made him roll over, just as a huge muzzle closed where his head had lay just a moment before.

_No need for breathing_. He thought to himself, climbing back to his feet. A quick glance upwards confirmed that Link had understood, as he witnessed the Champion slip onto the roof through the very gap Sheik had used not even a half hour before, the Wolfos leaping into the rafters after him _. What even are these_? He asked, answering himself in the same heartbeat _. Cursed. They're cursed_.

He raised his short sword like a shield, as if it were some sort of meagre defence. He wished then he had his clan tokens, a teleport would have been handy. But up. He had to get up. The shaggy monster leapt at him once again, its once manic face now with eyes wide with frustration. Sheik did what came naturally, using the beast's gigantic body as a step up into the rafters, sinking his punch knife into the beast’s thick skin to give him a foot hold upwards. It screamed in anger, swiping upwards and the Yiga nimbly vertically climbed. Sheik cried out as he felt one of the mangy jagged claws catch the back of his calf. Steeling himself to assess the damage later, he continued towards the roof, dismayed to find the second wolfos scarpering after him. 

The problem, Link realised, with retreating to the roof of the temple was the simple fact there was little left of the original structure. As dark as the night was, the missing tiles and dark holes could prove lethal. Link was agile, but he wasn't immune. And as high up as he was, he wasn't alone. Like a demon from hell, the creature pulled itself up onto the building, the tiles and structure beneath its heavy frame shaking and creaking ominously and it advanced on the Hero. Link pulled out his bow once again, quickly notching an arrow, this time however he selects one of his last few precious fire arrows, hoping that it would stop the beast in its tracks.

At least this time, it had some sort of effect - the beast roared as it was struck, square in the chest, and in an instant it was consumed with flames as the beast's fur quickly caught afire. Link sheathed his bow, cursing angrily as the beast shook the fire from its body and continued its advance, seemingly unhurt but angered. Drawing his sword, Link met the creature halfway, swiping the blade at the singed torso as he avoided claws and teeth, shield parrying flailing limbs. He skidded to a stop in time to see Sheik finally emerge onto the roof next to him.

"Took your time." Link greeted, helping the Yiga to his feet with a steady hand on his elbow.

"Sorry." Sheik replied, readying his short sword in his right hand.

"How long?" Link asked, noting the fine line of sweat on Sheik's brow and perhaps more worryingly, the way he favoured one leg over the other.

"Thirty, maybe forty seconds. If we're lucky."

"You good to go?"

Sheik hesitated, wondering for a moment what Link meant. He took stock of the cool, calculated look in the Champion's eyes and nodded. They couldn't leave these beasts to roam Hyrule, even if only confined to the plateau.

"Yes."

Sheik had never danced before, not that he could remember - but if he ever had imagined what it felt like, he would have imagined the feeling of dancing would have been similar to fighting alongside Hyrule's remaining Champion. He understood at that moment, why he was always doomed to fail in his assassination task on the Hero. This man was to save Hyrule, some higher being had commanded it, it was the only explanation to how Link could command the Master sword, as if it was an extension to his soul. Sheik felt foolish, to have ever thought that he could have bested the Hylian warrior. Still, he did his best to keep up. They played what could only be described as a game with the beast, circling the great dog, taking jabs at its ribs and flesh when circumstance allowed, turning it about until it stood and screamed with fury. Their blades were doing little damage, little more than pinpricks against its thick hide, but as they played their game and the beast became more furious and more disorientated, every now and again their blades would sink a little deeper.

Time was against them however, as Link sunk the Master sword into the beast’s side, it's companion joined them - joining the fray in a display of teeth, claws and rancid flesh, striking Link in such a way he lost grip of his blade, which was now firmly embedded into the side of the monster. The beasts were far more terrifying in numbers. Sheik was aware that the monsters were working together to separate them, coming between them and edging them to either side of the temple roof, forcing them further and further apart. Sheik's back came against something solid, and with a sickening realisation he realised he had been forced back up against the remaining structure of what was once a mighty spire. The wolfos, this one without the Master sword protruding from its flesh, opened its gaping jaws and for the last time, charged the trapped Sheik, fully intending on consuming the Yiga's head in one foul bite.

Fully expecting to be consumed, Sheik opened his eyes. To his own surprise, his own reactions had saved him. Somehow, goddess knowing how, he had raised his hands at the last second, and the jaws of the beast were held open, furious, by his own strength. For a few terrifying moments, they wrestled - Sheik struggling to maintain his strength as they circled each other in an impossible battle of wills. The Yiga, quickly tiring, pulled himself upwards and around, still holding the beasts jaws apart, but now riding the enraged wolfos like a horse, wrapping his legs around its necks in a futile attempt to strangle it as it bucked and clawed in an attempt to shake him off. When it finally succeeded, Sheik found himself on his back, dazed and exhausted.

The last thing he saw before he clenched his eyes closed and raised his arms to cover his face was the terrible silhouette of the beast against the full, yellow moon as it descended upon him.

And then Sheik felt something hot and warm that smelled like putrid death splash onto his face.

_Strange - I didn't think the end would smell quite this bad._

Realising that he was not dead, he slowly cracked open an eye, letting loose a breath he didn't realise he had been holding. Link stood between him and the wolfos, the creature's green eyes staring blankly down at the Yiga, it's mouth no longer laughing as it's tongue lolled lifelessly to the side. Link grunted uncomfortably, and Sheik realised that the Champion was bearing the entire weight of the beast. Quickly he got to his feet, pushing backwards at the torso, causing it to fall loose of Link's sword, which had penetrated the beast vertically through the jugular as the monster had fallen onto the Hero's blade. Now perished, it fell listlessly backwards, its huge body rolling away from them down the incline before falling thirty feet onto the stone courtyard below.

They watched, morbidly as it fell. An inhuman scream from behind them brought them back to the reality at hand. They had just killed one of the monsters, and now it's friend was furious.

Link sheathed the Master sword, turning to his companion.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. Sheik found himself nodding dumbly. "We need to get down off here quickly. Just do as I do and do as I say. I have a plan."

Sheik didn't have to ask, he could see from Link's eyes that the plan was stupid. He also found he didn't care.

"Alright." Sheik replied.

\-----

They realised two things in the minutes that followed. The first thing was that whatever hell spawned beast it was, it was fact. Impossibly fast. They climbed to the bottom of the temple quickly, sprinting as quickly as they could down the uneven camber towards the ruins of the abbey. The beast followed them, gaining ground on them quickly as it powered on all fours in their direction, the uneven ground and steep decline proving to be no obstacle. At one point, realising how close the wolfos was getting, Link turned, his bow drawn and a fire arrow already notched and flying as they ran. If it slowed the beast down it was minimal, once again aflame it charged on - looking more like a beast from the fiery depths of hell than ever.

The second thing they realised, was that killing the first beast had been luck. Pure, dumb luck. And it made Link grin. Sheik thought that he was perhaps mad, but as they clambered over the outer wall of the Eastern Abbey and into its ruins, he couldn't deny that there was something exhilarating about the chase. They ducked beneath an arch way, crouching low to catch their breaths. The black form of the wolfos cleared the wall in a single leap, and it stood in the clearing, towering above everything, roaring in rage. In the fading darkness, its eyes glowed green and it raised its mighty head to the sky, its nose twitched as it scented the air around it. It honed in on their location with terrifying speed.

"Move, move!" Link cried, pulling at Sheik's arm as they left their temporary hiding place, the creature screaming after them. Seemingly aimless, they ran from ruined room to ruined room, darting and dodging the surprisingly spry creature until Link pulled them to a stop. Sheik wondered why they had halted, deeming them both still in danger.

And then there was a sound that usually paralysed those who heard it with fear. The mechanical whirring and beeping of a guardian waking up from its dormant sleep. Link had led them to the guardian that resided in the abbey, and Sheik couldn't decide whether it was genius or a suicide attempt.

The beast ignored the beeping, seem nonplussed that the mound in the centre of the ruin had a red, fearsome eye that scuttered between the three of them. It finally fixated on Sheik, and then unmistakable sound of the guardians weapons warming up to fire rang in their ears like the chiming of a church bell. The wolfos, oblivious advanced on them.

_Beep beep beep beep beepbeepbeep_. It became an unworldly screech, and for the second time that night Sheik thought that it was finally over. He felt, rather than saw, Link shift his weight before he was blinded by a beam of red light that exploded into his vision. Sheik closed his eyes, but a moment too late to be saved by an agonising pain that he imagined was akin to staring for an hour into the sun. When he opened his eyes, he thought he was blind. He saw only white, with darkness creeping into the side of his vision like sludge. And then he blinked, hard - and witnessed the scene before him as his sight slowly, painfully returned.

Link, once again, stood before him - although this time his shield was raised to cover his face and every muscle in his body was clenched tight. Then a smell hit them both, the unmistakable stench of burnt steak. In a black heap against a now crumbled wall, lay the smouldering remains of their tormentor. The guardian twitched, it's mechanical head turning to search for its next target - and both men made a hasty retreat.

\-------

Dawn was breaking by the time they felt safe enough to stop. They rested their weary bodies against the remains of an old fountain which stood at the bottom of the temple stairs. They sat in silence for a while, neither of them finding the energy or the will to speak.

Link sat with his head resting in his hands, filthy with blood and grim, watching Sheik as he bandaged the wound on his leg as they waited. Although his posture was relaxed, the Hylian was alert, one eye trained to the temple, fully aware that there had been three predators and they had only dealt with two of them.

And then they heard an all too familiar sound - from the temple came a howl, a gut-wrenching, jarring sound that caused both to leap to their feet and wearily ready their weapons. As the last of the darkness faded, and the sun began to rise behind them, they spotted the huge hulking figure staring down at them from the entrance to the temple. It regarded them with a hatred that Link didn't think capable of a beast, its eyes glowing brightly and clearly in the distance - and an ancient intelligence hiding behind it's vexatious eyes.

Unbelievably, it turned and walked away, disappearing over the ridge on the south side of the building.

They didn't return for their things until midday, neither of them admitting that the events of the night before had unsettled them both.

Link packed their things quickly, apologising once again to the goddess statues for their intrusion as he stuffed his cloak and blanket into his pack, not bothering to fold them neatly.

"Link!" Sheik called from outside, startling the Hylian. "You have to see this." The Yiga appeared at the doorway, his usually passive face troubled.

Link followed him outside, slinging his belonging onto his back as he briskly walked.

"They were human." Sheik announced, pointing to the twisted corpse of a naked woman, her gaze listlessly staring into the sky, a fatal wound in her neck.

\---

They buried her on the temple grounds, digging her as deep a grave as they could muster. Link went to see if he could recover the body in the Abbey, but he returned later sadly shaking his head. The guardian had ensured there was nothing left for them to bury.

They had no name for her, just a sadness they couldn't quite put into words.

"You know," Link finally managed, as he shovelled the last of the dirt onto the fresh mound, "There's plenty of evil in Hyrule, the Calamity just adds to it."

Sheik couldn't have agreed more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! This was super difficult to write for some reason.


End file.
